


Surrender

by gatekat, Verilidaine



Series: Judicium [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bonding, M/M, Prostitution, Spark Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With several centuries of true peace behind them, and all that time managing to stay well away from each other, Jazz and Prowl's luck has just run out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Risks of a Good Citizen

Jazz unfolded from his alt mode and took a moment to luxuriate and stretch his frame out to its full height for no other reason than that he could. Five hundred and sixty-two vorns had passed, but he still reveled in every transformation sequence since getting his t-cog back. As he stepped onto the walkway from the transformation lane, he wasn't at all shy about noticing the looks he got. He'd done well, as had Cybertron, and he'd invested some of his profits into looking _different_. Though he'd kept his colors, he was more streamlined, closer to a racer's frame, with decorative doorwings and elongated, swept back sensor horns instead of the stubby war-time variants.

The sun was warm on his plating and he smiled at those around him on the short walk to his favorite rarities supplier. Okay, so Acquis was the only one with a solid reputation, but he was still good. 

Running a dance club that served as a safe haven for strays had turned out to be more work than he'd expected. He'd stayed in enough places like it in his own youth to have some idea, but the art of keeping everything stocked had certainly not been an expected difficulty. Frequent runs for the flavor of the week meant he knew this shop well.

Which meant that as soon as he looked through the front window, he knew something was wrong. 

Acquis liked to mingle and talk with his patrons, mostly to convince them to try something new and hopefully buy it, but he also genuinely enjoyed the interaction. So to see him standing behind his counter, helm lowered, not even making optic contact with anyone inside... 

Four other mecha inside. None of them moving, either.

Something Jazz hadn't seen in a long time clicked in his processor.

Robbery.

Without any hesitation, he scanned the four visitors inside and IDed the robber.

He was armed with an old blaster, strong enough to kill if the aim was right. 

Jazz sighed to himself. No matter how good things got, there would always be those to disrupt it. 

Well. 

Better get to it. 

Jazz strolled into the shop, head held high. "Please tell me ya got some'a that quartz left, had a rush on the stuff." He grinned at the robber. "Ever been by? _Saxo's_ , it's a great place. Give ya a coupon if ya hit it before close, ah'll show ya over."

The robber, one of the many sparked mecha created in the last two centuries if Jazz judged correctly, was so taken aback by the casual chatter he forgot he had a blaster in his hand and just stared at Jazz for a bit. It was opening enough for Jazz to grab the blaster and wrench it out of his hand. 

He heard Acquis gasp "no" and dove to the left on raw reflex, coming up with the robber's blaster in hand to face a heavier weapon tracking him.

Of _course_ it wasn't going to be that easy. Jazz fired and missed, and then dove out of the way of the shot that was aimed at his helm. He heard it connect with the first robber behind him and the second mech fired again, right at one of the panicking civilians who tried to flee rather than freeze. 

The shot connected with his helm and Jazz winced as the mech dropped, but the robber's distraction on the harmless target gave him time to get good aim on the heavy blaster wielding one and a clean shot to the neck dropped him. The mech wasn't going to gray quickly, but with his processor cut off from his frame he was functionally harmless. He twisted around to face the remaining robber, but the mech was down and bleeding gradually out. Shock had put him into stasis, but he had at least three or four breems left before medical care would become critical.

With a sigh, Jazz straightened, looking at the scene, then pinged in the request for an officer, and found one was already on his way. They were to remain at the scene as witnesses and suspects until the matter had been reviewed. He added the updates of causalities, and pinged back to his club that he wouldn't be back for a while. They'd have to manage without. There was no way he was going to risk legal wrath by leaving the scene of this crime. Not with the mecha he knew were in charge of it.

Jazz tried to shunt that thought away, but he couldn't before he acknowledged gratitude that neither had made his existence difficult. Each one wielded more than enough power in the government to make him a functional outcast, unable to even get day jobs, but as long as he'd played by the rules where they could see and filled out the forms they wanted, they let him be. It was, to be honest, far better treatment than he'd expected given how he'd left them. The cassettes may have visited vengeance on him in the first couple vorns, but those tended to be limited to prank-grade harassment. Ravage did the most damage, and had the longest memory, but even she limited herself to cosmetic revenge. Enough to show he'd seriously displeased Soundwave to any who looked, and enough to hurt like the pit, but nothing that time or a medic couldn't repair.

"Jazz, are you all right?" Acquis rushed over to him as soon as he was sure it was safe to move. "Oh, poor Laster. He wasn't even a hundred and fifty yet."

"Gettin' rusty," Jazz murmured as he looked down. He should have been better, should have been able to handle a couple young punks without getting a bystander killed. Though the gray frame created very little emotion in him, Jazz still knelt and touched the helm with his fingertips. "Yeah, ah'm all right. How 'bout y'self?"

"I'm fine, no damage. Just scared half to deactivation," Acquis rattled on, clearly full of nerves. Jazz let him ramble as he stood calmly, quietly. By the time he heard sirens, all the weapons had been carefully moved away from everyone. The last thing anyone needed was for rookie Enforcers -- and that was really all there currently were for patrol officers -- to see a weapon in someone's hands and panic.

He frowned to himself as he thought of the new Enforcers. They were annoying in how much they tended to take after the Commandant they had been designed after, and he really didn't like dealing with them. It was like talking to a young Prowl, every time. 

His glare turned back onto the two robbers. Pit, he'd just wanted to run a quick errand.

* * *

Prowl was on patrol, taking a well-deserved break from office work when the priority message came through dispatch.

_Armed robbery in progress at Acquis's Emporium_

Without even thinking, Prowl's lights flashed on and he turned towards the location, quickly accelerating to full speed. Halfway there, an update came through.

_Suspects disabled, one bystander presumed deactivated._

Sirens came to life now that there was no worry about alerting the robbers of his approach.

He ensured that medical had been alerted and was on its way and went as fast as he dared. Suspects disabled was _not_ the same as suspects detained, and living in a world of brand new mecha with no history of military training meant he couldn't trust anyone but himself at times like this. 

He pulled up, paused for Umbra to jump out of his passenger side and transformed, then stilled for just the moment it took to realize who the bystanders were. Umbra looked at him when he hesitated.

At least he knew that the suspects really _were_ disabled, he thought with a sigh and gave a gentle motion to Umbra that all was well.

He also knew that their centuries-long effort to avoid each other was at an end, and with that would come all the issues it created. He could already feel his spark reacting, even though he wasn't even close enough to teek. 

Protocols put in place to deal with a fallen comrade and equally disturbing situations fell firmly in place so he could do his duty. As ready as he would ever be, Prowl stepped into the store. He was sure his bonded was already watching and reviewing the recordings. The moment Prowl's spark had jumped at seeing Jazz, Soundwave would have felt it.

~I am here,~ Soundwave murmured across the bond, more a feeling than words, but still present. Prowl sent back a grateful flicker. 

He first saw to the civilian, realizing as soon as he knelt that there was no hope of recovery. The frame was already gray and cooling. 

"I will need to take all your statements," he informed the witnesses as he stood. 

They all nodded, except Jazz, who frowned. 

"Ah gotta get back ta work, can ah go first?" he asked.

With there being no use in delaying the inevitable, Prowl inclined his helm in agreement and stepped up to the different-looking Jazz. "What is your account of events?"

Jazz launched into an efficient, cut-and-dry retelling of the encounter. He'd walked into the robbery knowing that it was ongoing in an attempt to prevent casualties, without realizing that backup had been waiting. The deactivated civilian had panicked and bolted, Jazz had taken both robbers down after disarming one of them, and here they were. 

But while he spoke, he kept his gaze on the ground and his arms crossed over his chest, and there was a very slight forward lean to his stance. His tone said he wanted to be far, far away, and his frame was fighting that claim. His field was flat.

Those watching, including four more Enforcers who'd arrived after Prowl, all saw the matching reactions. Prowl wanted to touch, he wanted to run, he wanted to tear out the part of his spark that so clearly belonged to this mech and just give it to him so he and Soundwave could be done with it. He was an Enforcer however, and even stripped of the bulk of his compliance coding, he performed his duties.

When Jazz finished talking, Prowl gave another nod. "Do you have any plans to leave the city in the next metacycle?"

Jazz shrugged. "'S my home, not goin' anywhere. Be available for all the follow up ya need, officer."

"Thank you. You may go," Prowl told him before turning to the shopkeeper and continuing on with the impromptu lesson of the orn.

Jazz headed towards the door, then paused right before he was outside and looked back. "Officer?" 

Prowl also paused, doorwings tracking him, then looked over with a questioning cant. 

"'S, um, would ya say hi ta Soundwave and the cassettes for me?" Jazz asked, and shrugged. "Just a hello. Hope they're well."

"I will," Prowl promised smoothly, and with his emergency response coding still in full effect the tumbling emotions he felt didn't show, not even in his field.

* * *

Three orns turned into four, which turned into six, and Jazz finally felt himself relaxing from the encounter. Yes, his spark still ached a bit from being so close to its mate, but the ache was beginning to fade and he felt himself not needing to fake his good mood while he worked.

The centuries had tempered the anger and grief, and he was settled into a new life. Adapt and change, it was all he'd ever done, and this was just one more phase. Maybe it wasn't the phase he'd imagined, but he'd come to terms with that. He'd grieved his mate, accepted the reality that they had both long known was possible. He had friends, a small family of his own, and lovers enough to keep from growing bored with life. 

It was nice, his life. He just had to stay away from Prowl and Soundwave to keep it that way. That, gratefully, seemed to be working out too. He hadn't received any notices to appear, and he knew the Commandant's efficiency would have the case wrapped up by now given the amount of evidence that surely existed. Just the vid of events would have cleared Jazz of all but the most minor of wrong-doing, and it had been long enough that Jazz was confident that neither was going to use it to harass him.

He hated to admit it, but it was a tense first couple orns, waiting to find out if the encounter had torn open a seal covering enough pain in the others to want to hurt him. Not even a symbiot visit in six orns, though, that was pretty good grounds to go on that they weren't coming for him. He could just forget about the whole thing and go back to life as usual. 

"Afternoon, Sidestep," Jazz greeted his lead bartender. 

Sidestep nodded to him and lifted a hand. "We're low on quartz, and about to drown in aluminum." 

"Ain't that always the way," Jazz said with a dramatic sigh as he hopped over the bar. 

"Show off," Sidestep said. 

"If ya don't use it, ya lose it," Jazz said as he snatched up the inventory list and scanned it. "Mmkay, special 'a the day, advertise as quartz but we're gonna flavor it three parts aluminum, half part quartz, and add in two parts, mm, nitric acid. Half off. No other quartz on the menu."

"Gotcha boss," Sidestep nodded easily as he walked around the bar to begin setting up for the early crowd. "You gonna make a supply run for the night crowd?"

"Let's see how it goes," Jazz said, skimming through the rest of the inventory. "Last one went _so_ well." 

"You're not going to get mugged every time you go to the store," Sidestep said with a chuckle. 

"One never knows," Jazz murmured distractedly as he mixed up two cubes of the orn's special and downed one of them. "Mm, not bad. Acid carries the quartz through, we should use that again." 

Sidestep reached for the second cube and sipped it. "Yeah, that's good. I'll add it to the roster of specials."

Jazz nodded and they went about the setup, greeting the other first-shift help that came in and began their prep. By the time the light outside flicked on that they were ready, the first three of the early regulars were already waiting. The shift went well, quieting a bit as the early crowd dispersed, but that gave them time to clean up a bit and get ready for the late crowd, a group that was always more rowdy.

He did end up going out on a run for supplies right before the rush hit, and when he came back in, immediately spotted the frame in the back of the house that made his spark twist funnily. 

"Yeah, I don't know why he's here," Sidestep whispered to him. "Ordered a standard and house special wafers, that's all he's done. Is this because of that mugging?" 

"Ah'll take care of it," Jazz said, patting his arm, and then made his way through the crowd. He greeted the regulars, met the newcomers, and generally grinned and dazzled the entire way until he was at the single occupancy table in the very back. He put a hand on it, leaning forward. "Commandant. To what do we owe the honor?" 

"Same reason I stalked your work before. Trying to decide what to do about my spark," Prowl responded calmly, his gaze on Jazz steady

Despite the potential threat of the words, and there were so many ways to take them as a threat, Jazz didn't even need to teek the intent to know not a single one was intended in the phrasing. Prowl had stalked him before, and he was going to again, until he determined what he wanted to do, or Jazz made a decision for him.

"You have a nice place. Good staff, good energon and a good cook," Prowl added as Jazz processed. He looked down at his drink before looking up. "I'm glad I didn't give in to my anger and stop you from opening."

"Me too," Jazz said, raising an optic ridge. "How hard'd'ya consider it?"

"For two orns," Prowl shrugged one doorwing.

"Comforting," Jazz said, and meant it.

"So now that you know why I am here, do you have anything to say about it?" Prowl asked, fingers fiddling with his cube.

"Think as long as ya don't bother my patrons or hurt my business, ah don't care what'cha do," Jazz said, then gestured at the wafers. "Wanna refill? On the house."

"Thank you," Prowl inclined his doorwings and helm. It was only Jazz's knowledge of him that let be so sure it was about both statement and offer, rather than just the free food.

He gave the Praxian a long look, then tore himself away and tried to ignore him for the rest of the night.

* * *

Jazz watched Prowl from behind the counter, only paying half attention to the drink he was mixing. The Praxian had been in more nights than not, and while he was always polite, civil, bought something, and answered Jazz's standard greeting, he gave no real hint to what he was thinking or planning. 

And Jazz _knew_ he was planning. Or at least deciding what to plan. 

It had been going on long enough that even his customer base was changing. The new, young Enforcers, catching wind of where their respected Commandant liked to relax, were coming in in flocks, and Jazz missed the old scene. 

Not that the Enforcers were bad customers, or driving his away, but everyone certainly seemed to behave just a _little_ better when they were around, and Jazz would rather the opposite. 

He handed the sweetened high grade to the rookie sitting at the bar and flashed him a flirty smile just to enjoy the startled look, then sauntered out into the house. 

He went straight to Prowl, who was tracking his every move, and plopped down in the seat across from him, relaxed back, tilted his head, and just looked at him. 

Prowl watched him back, sometimes directly, sometimes over his energon. It took a full three kliks for Prowl's field to extend, and it was cautious, uncertain of its welcome.

Jazz's stayed very still, and didn't react. 

_Almost_ didn't react. He couldn't stop the very small forward pulse. His spark warmed and sang, but that was kept secret. He kept looking, though the visor at least allowed him to mask where his direct gaze was, and he could see some of his staff starting to watch.

"Do you want me to leave?" Prowl asked, his tone calmer than his field.

"Y' not botherin' my patrons or hurtin' my business," Jazz said with a shrug, then gestured around. "Things aren't quite as lively as they tended ta be before, but ah've got no complaints." 

"That is not exactly an answer," Prowl pressed as he got his field under control and let it rest against the edge of Jazz's.

"Told ya ah don't care 's long as said previously mentioned conditions were met," Jazz said.

A small smile turned the corner of Prowl's lip plates. "Are you 'facing anyone regularly?"

"Couple dancers," Jazz said, looking over towards the stage. "Black one there, on the right, and the other one doesn't work tonight. Customers here an' there, some'a the wait staff if things get slow."

Prowl sipped his energon. "Room for one more?"

"D'pends on the size'a the berth," Jazz said with a grin.

Prowl actually chuckled a bit and his field reached out a bit more with just a hint of the lust Prowl felt in it. "Mine has room. Does yours?"

The grin faded a bit, and Jazz's field was careful in its exploration of the contact. Lust was there, but so well-founded wariness. "What're ya askin'," he murmured. " _Really_ askin'."

Prowl swirled the energon that was left in his cube, and downed it. Expression turned serious, he locked optics with Jazz despite the visor. "Lovers. Casual interfacing."

Jazz bit out a short laugh. "Ya think that's possible?" 

"On the 13.289% possibility that I can manage with that, that is all I am asking of you," Prowl said with a displeased huff. "I want this to hurt my family as little as possible."

Jazz nodded in understanding, arms folded, gaze shifting back to the dancers. "They know y' askin'?"

Prowl's expression was half indignant and half horrified, and was enough to draw the attention of several of his officers. "Of course they know," he said, keeping his voice low now that they had attention. "Even if I was inclined to try, few secrets survive an open spark bond."

"Y' bonded," Jazz said flatly, then seemed to shake himself. "'Course ya did, no reason not ta." He unfolded and drummed his fingers on the table. "Not sure ah'm up ta bein' a quick 'face, mech. Don't get much from it an' it complicates life."

"Then what would be your terms?" Prowl responded just as flatly, his field going still after the first hints of anger flickered through it.

"For..." Jazz said, frowning at him. "What, for 'facing? Ya wanna pleasurebot, 'cause that business is on the side, kinda hush hush, y'know?"

"I don't see why you would wish to hide it, but if payment would make interfacing with me acceptable to you, I will pay," Prowl accepted the terms he was offered and refused to process the emotions the conversation was bringing up without his bonded to hold him. "What is your per-joor rate?"

Jazz stared at him. "Why are ya doin' this?"

"Because my spark is addicted to you despite what you did to us," Prowl managed to keep his voice and field calm even though he was anything but calm inside. "You made it very clear what your feelings were when you left. This is the option left."

"What ah said was s'posed ta _keep_ ya away," Jazz said. "So this very thing wouldn't happen." He carefully shifted his hand forward and straightened his fingers out. He had a good life here, friends and easy lovers and nothing to remind him of his mate except his own dreams.

Did he really want to change all that? 

"Lemme think on it a bit?"

Prowl fixated on those fingers, aborting an initial reaction to reach out, but not before it was obvious he wanted to. "Anything more than casual brings Soundwave in. Remember that when you decide." He warily put his hand on top of Jazz's, the buzz of his field a riot of unease and conflicting emotions to the mech who knew him so well. "I won't have him hurt again."

Jazz nodded. "Sounders comes first, ah know." He turned his hand and curled his fingers around Prowl's. "Come back tomorrow."

"I will," Prowl said, and his field quivered with the desire in his spark. Still, he stood and when Jazz let go of his hand, he walked out as if nothing had happened.

Not many were fooled. Jazz knew it from the looks he was getting from staff, regulars and Enforcers alike. With a sigh, he heaved himself up and looked around, then grinned. "Saxo's: now with live in-house sitcoms," he said loud enough for anyone who had been trying to listen in to hear. "Stay tuned!"

* * *

Jazz drifted lazily through a half-dream, not quite in recharge but also not quite online and aware. The rhythmic petting over his swept back sensor horns was making him feel wonderfully fuzzy, almost hypnotized. Who needed to think about problems, what problems? He could just relax and doze and--

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong at some point?" Mirage asked, "Or are we going to do this all night?" 

Jazz huffed in irritation at the voice that brought him out of the light recharge. He was on his back, helm in Mirage's lap, and he reluctantly powered his visor back on to look up at him. 

"I assume something is wrong," Mirage said primly. "Much as I enjoy the spontaneous visit, I doubt you're here just for the pleasure of my company." 

"Ah _like_ the pleasure of y' company," Jazz objected. 

Mirage just looked at him. 

Jazz huffed again, and turned his helm so that his face was pressed against Mirage's abdomen. "Prowl came by the club. Been comin' by for a while, just sits in the back and looks at me. Tonight he said he wants ta start 'facin'."

"He came up to you, or because you pressed him?" Mirage asked, knowing the variables and implied strength of conviction between the two were very different.

"Sat down an' stared at him until he asked if ah wanted him ta leave, said ah didn't care, he asked who ah'm facin' and then asked if there was room for one more."

"You pressed him," Mirage sighed. "You really shouldn't have done that until you were sure what you wanted."

"He was _starin'_ at me!" Jazz protested. "Ah couldn't _think._ "

"He was a customer in an open to the public club," Mirage replied. "Unless he stalked you into your home, he had a right to sit and stare, or sit and process. You know him. He takes forever to move on personal issues."

Jazz frowned at him.

"The truth is power and knowledge is currency that never expires," Mirage repeated the spy's mantra. "Now, what do you really want to ask me?"

Jazz swallowed. "...Should ah get reformatted?"

"Only if it's so bad you're seriously looking at taking your spark to get away from him," Mirage murmured with gentle fingers.

"Nah," Jazz sighed, pressing harder against the spy. "Hoped he'd take it hard enough ta stay away. Might be easier, though, ya know? Just love his spark without the memories."

"Oh, I have no doubt it would be much easier for all three of you," Mirage sighed. "We survived, but at such a high price. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe ... I can never be happy like that again. I've experienced too much, lost too much, I belong to two worlds that do not exist anymore. Yet I would rather live with the difficulties it brings than to lose what I was created and recreated to be. Though if you ever did ... I may."

Jazz's grip tightened. "Twins ever talk about it? If they're glad it happened?"

Mirage nodded. "They asked me to share all my memories of the former life, and I have. It took us sixteen vorns to go through it all at a pace they could handle," he began, the unease he'd had with the request still apparent. "By the time I was done, even before I showed them what I knew Megatron did to them, they were grateful for the fresh start. Neither liked what they had become during the war."

Jazz nodded. "Too much ah don't wanna lose," he finally said. "Just ta be in love with a bonded mech who's more addicted ta me than anything else, not worth it."

Mirage tweaked a sensor horn. "As if you're any less addicted to him. His _spark_ loves you, and don't think I didn't hear about what they were about to do when you left. Do you really think the mech you put forward on mission was that different from the real you?"

"Ah couldn't tell that mech apart from the real mech apart from the delusional mech," Jazz said, batting at Mirage's hand. "Y' know if ah 'face him, even if he pays me, it'll just turn inta that all over again."

"The difference is that you have no mission, no reason to play them. They know the truth. If they agree to court you, it's going to be knowing the issues involved," Mirage pointed out reasonably.

"Mmh. Yeah. So then it becomes not givin' inta the crazy again," Jazz said, and turned his head to look up at Mirage. "Y' sayin' ah should 'face him."

"You both want to, and you both know why," Mirage hummed. "I believe it would be good for you both. Though I also believe it would be good for you to ask to be courted rather than for credits."

"Yeah," Jazz sighed, head flopping back down. "Was hopin' maybe he..." He broke off and punched the lounge next to Mirage's hip. "Shoulda waited. Stupid. _Stupid._ This was so _easy_ the first time!"

"What is done is done. Now it is about recovery," Mirage said gently, stroking a sensory horn. "It sounds as if the real question is if you wish to admit where this is going now, or allow it to go there despite your efforts."

"And if Soundwave hates me," Jazz said. "That's a pretty big question too." Mirage's thumb followed along the outside rim of the horn and Jazz felt the tension drain from his frame. "Sorry ta spill my psychological mess all over y' lap." 

"Everyone needs someone to handle them," Mirage reminded him. "You listen to me often enough. It is only fair I return the favor. There are so few of us left, we need to support each other. As for Soundwave, ask him. If Prowl was preparing to approach you, you know Soundwave has accepted it. Prowl is far too loyal to not ask permission."

Jazz hummed in agreement and reached up to touch Mirage's face, rolling onto his back. "Ya know y' the best noble-turned-spy-turned-civilian anyone could ever ask for."

"You are the best commander-turned-friend I have," Mirage smiled at the touch and teasing. "What will you do?"

"Gonna recharge and see how ah feel after processin' a bit," Jazz said.

A soft hum of acceptance and understanding came from Mirage. "Do you wish to stay with me tonight?"

Jazz started to answer, then groaned and arched at the next sweep of Mirage's fingers over his horns. "Yeah, if y' don't mind." 

"Not at all," Mirage said. "The twins will probably be working until dawn, they tend to feed off each other and Sunstreaker just started a new painting. They don't mind if you're here, either, though you might get pushed out of the way when they come to berth." 

Jazz chuckled. "Wouldn't expect anything else."

* * *

Jazz drummed his fingers on the bar and tried not to pay attention to Prowl sitting at his table, instead focusing on the giant crowd that had amassed. Apparently the joke of the continuing sitcom of his life had spread, and the drama-starved citizens of Cybertron were tuning in. 

"You should always have personal problems," Sidestep said with a chuckle as he cleaned out a cube. 

"Shut up," Jazz said, knowing his employee wouldn't take it personally.

"So go talk to him already. You know what you're going to say," Sidestep took the grumble in stride.

Jazz sighed, wiped the bar off one more time, then walked around and headed over to Prowl. He saw the doorwings pick up and tense as he sat across from him, then leaned in and tried to keep his voice low enough that the music would mask it. "Hundred credits a 'face. Doesn't matter what kind, or how long it lasts."

Prowl nodded, frame relaxing now that terms were known. He could work with any known conditions. "Agreed. After closing tonight?" He also kept his voice low, out of respect for Jazz's desire for discretion.

"Sure," Jazz said. "No more than once every two orns, payment up front, ya already know the satisfaction guarantee."

"Agreed and understood," Prowl relaxed a bit more. Grateful for parameters and facts. They were, right now, more important than what he had hoped for. He knew what Jazz expected of him, and he knew what he'd receive.

Jazz nodded, glad to have that settled. "After closing, wherever ya want. Hotel, my place, your place, alleyway, whatever. Just lemme know."

Prowl really considered the location for a long moment, at least it was long to him. In reality he'd run his calculations before Jazz finished speaking and it barely took him any longer to log into the planetary info net and make arrangements. "I have arranged for a room," he pinged Jazz the location and confirmation number.

"Ah'll be there," Jazz said with a bit of a smile. "Oh and--ya pay for any finish touch-ups needed due ta felinoid interference, unless ah break the agreement in some way."

"I will," Prowl answered seriously. "Ravage is not pleased and Umbra is just confused, but they will not harm you. Neither will any of the others."

"Thanks," Jazz said as he stood up. "See ya there, gimme a joor ta close an' clean."

"Understood," Prowl nodded again and relaxed back in his seat to finish his energon and snack. He remained until closing, finishing off a single cube of good high grade while he Jazz and people watched, and talked to the occasional officer or civilian who stopped at his table.

Jazz watched as he left before going into the closing routine. It was rhythmic and easy and allowed him to settle into something resembling mission parameters. This needed to be a job, at least for now. No getting lost in it and turning into a glitchy mess. 

He left a little early to give himself extra time if he needed it, found the room at one of Cybertron's few upscale hotels, and pinged. He wasn't at all surprised when Prowl answered the door and ushered him in, or at the intense arousal in Prowl's field. The mech wanted to get it on without preamble, and Jazz was grateful. It'd allow him to stay in mission mode easier the less they talked.

When the door closed, Prowl caught Jazz around the waist and pulled him into a kiss that expressed all the hunger in his spark and frame. Jazz gasped into it and lifted a leg up along Prowl's frame, grabbing his helm to deepen the kiss for a moment before forcing himself to pull away. "The--" 

The credit stick pressed into his hand and Jazz subspaced it without checking the balance and chased for the second kiss, and this time didn't let go. He willing stepped backwards until he was pressed against an interior wall. Prowl got one hand under his knee and pulled it upwards until Jazz hooked it around his waist. Prowl's spike cover snapped open and Jazz groaned to feel it extending against his hip, grinding there. He ground back, one hand moving down to the sweet spot on Prowl's abdomen as he bared his valve.

Prowl's groan was intense and his fingers eagerly sought out Jazz's upper back and the sweet spots he knew were there. His ventilations already fast, he angled his hips and sank into his paid-for lover in a single smooth motion.

Jazz shuddered and pushed down, wanting it just as much as Prowl. He stilled when their arrays came flush together and panted, forcing himself to look into Prowl's optics. 

Prowl stared back, then slowly, they started rocking together. With a gasp of his vents as the pleasure, Prowl's field unfurled completely to mesh as deeply with Jazz's as it was allowed. Ice blue optics dimmed as focus went elsewhere and Jazz reflexively tipped his helm back when Prowl's face came down to lavish attention on his throat cabling. It was as good as it had ever been, as perfect as if they'd never left each other, and the pleasure soon spiraled out to consume them both.

The first overload came hard and fast and with surging sparks that demanded to be freed. Jazz's scream when Prowl bit down carried, Prowl's roar shook the room and his revving engine made both of them shudder and seize. 

The second wasn't much further behind as Prowl drove his spike in deep and hard, seeking to burn off enough of his frame's needs to answer his spark. White armor parted as Prowl claimed Jazz's mouth in a devouring kiss.

" _Prowl--_ "

Primus that _sound_. Jazz's hands groped inside Prowl's chest, touching and stroking, going right to the crystal. Glossae tangled together when he touched it, both of them whining from the surge it sent shooting through them.

"Berth," Prowl groaned, reluctantly pulled apart just a bit. He wouldn't be standing after a spark overload. "Then all yours."

Jazz pushed him back across the room, covering the distance as fast as they could manage without tripping, before they toppled onto the padding and fumbled to get their frames flush and pressed. Jazz's crystal was exposed, and their sparks refused to be held back any longer. The first leaders found and tangled together in a beautiful blue glow and Prowl keened, his frame arching up in an effort to merge faster. The pleasure of the touch of the long-lost spark surged through them and blasted their processors into a blissful white-out while their sparks snuggled together and reveled in the perfect moment without the stress of their processors' objections.

Jazz's spark shifted and explored the new taste that it found inside its mate, the part that was connected to Soundwave, and spun happily to find such joy there. He was welcomed by it, because Soundwave wanted Prowl to be happy, to have all that made him happy, and Jazz did make Prowl happy.

~Never want to lose you again,~ Prowl's spark pulsed forward with all it was.

~I wish it was all easier,~ Jazz's spark despaired.

~We survive. So much. So much. War is over. We survived. We have frames. First bonded does not object to _us_ ,~ Prowl's replied, a bit disjointed but determined.

~ _Us,_ ~ the darker blue spark sighed blissfully as they spun tighter and tighter together. ~All the others so many others they weren't _us_ never found another us. Always us, don't forget, won't be gone so long again.~

~We become one soon. Frames will accept. Make them accept,~ Prowl pressed, wanting the promise that Jazz would work on his frame to say yes.

~ _Yes,_ ~ Jazz vowed. ~Always yours,~ the spark whispered in the last moments before the frames seized up again and tore them apart with the force of the charge that cracked through them. 

It left them both panting and shaking, Jazz just barely holding himself up on one arm before he collapsed down, open chests flush together. There was a momentary thought of moving, but his frame was exhausted and his spark wanted to be there, the berth was nice, the room was nice, and he knew, when he felt like hauling himself up, the washrack would be _very_ nice. Prowl still had a thing for washracks. It was something Jazz never learned the origin of, other than Prowl saying once that he'd always found indulging in a washrack experience more rewarding than indulging in consumables or art or a fine view, though he still enjoyed all those things.

Jazz shifted to the side so their armor could close and left one arm draped around Prowl as he sighed and relaxed. He didn't feel like moving anyway.


	2. Navigating

Ravage slunk into the house after Umbra, both of them only moments ahead of Prowl. They'd been spying, of course, but only on Jazz. 

Ravage jumped up onto Soundwave's shoulder and Umbra settled in his lap as the rest of the symbiots watched from their respective corners. They'd all felt the strength of Prowl's merge with Jazz, it had echoed through the entire network despite Soundwave's efforts to mute it for the symbiots, and now they were waiting. 

Prowl came around the corner and Soundwave straightened. "Prowl: feels better?" 

"Yes," the Praxian brightened, and it didn't take telepathy to know it was at seeing his bonded. Without a word he made himself comfortable on Soundwave's lap and snuggled in. "I hope it wasn't too disturbing for you. I could feel the bond wasn't closed enough on my side. I tried to mute it, but I don't believe I did much."

"Soundwave: helped as much as he could," the host said, stroking Prowl's chevron and enjoying the purr it generated as much as Prowl enjoyed the contact. "Soundwave: has known of Prowl's strong link with Jazz longer than Prowl has been alive," he reminded his mate. "Event: was not disturbing."

"Good," Prowl sighed with contentment. "Even though it's a buymech arrangement for now, I know it won't last like that. He wants me as badly as I want him. Eventually we'll be lovers. My spark wants to bond. I'm less sure."

Soundwave nodded. "Soundwave ... wishes Jazz had left the planet," he admitted heavily.

"Much as my spark disagrees, I wish he had too," Prowl murmured. "I was content until I teeked him again."

"Soundwave: supposes detoxing again is not an option?" the host asked.

"Not unless Jazz or I leave Cybertron for good," Prowl sighed. "Events just proved that the intent to avoid only lasts for so long. It's more logical to deal with it now than put it off another few centuries just to repeat the process."

Soundwave nodded again and Umbra jumped over to curl against Prowl's lap, rumbling into a deep purr as he nuzzled him. 

Umbra had never met Jazz in person, but his meaning was clear. 

"Soundwave: likes how happy Jazz makes Prowl too," her host said, then sighed. "Soundwave: found himself missing Jazz." 

Ravage lifted her head and hissed at both of them.

"Yes, he hurt us, but I'm sure you heard why," Prowl looked at her as he stroked Umbra. "He chose his method poorly, but he needed time to grieve, recover, find himself again."

Ravage snarled something entirely impolite and jumped down, stalking away. 

"Ravage: believes Jazz forcing Prowl to pay for encounters is cruel," Soundwave said.

"Cruel?" Prowl asked, completely at a loss as to why.

Soundwave sighed. "Extortion. Taking advantage of an addiction. Jazz's spark: cares. Jazz's processors: have been shown to be less than trustworthy."

It took a moment, but Prowl cycled his optics when comprehension hit him. "One hundred credits for a night is hardly extortion," he chuckled a bit and relaxed against his bonded, knowing Soundwave would make sure Ravage understood what was being said in her absence. "I'll likely spend more than that on a proper date when we get to that stage. It makes Jazz comfortable, it gives me solid parameters to work within, and it gives us both time to work through a lot of past hurt and emotion while having the pretense of being able to walk away if it's ever too uncomfortable. In case she missed it, I found the arrangement quite agreeable when I asked how much he charged. It's not just Jazz who needs time and contact to adapt."

Umbra trilled in agreement. 

"Ravage: has long held onto her anger," Soundwave murmured. "Prowl and Jazz: should continue to explore what is possible. Soundwave: wants both happy. Jazz: saved Cybertron."

"Yes, he did," Prowl murmured. "From all I've read, Autobot Prowl's capture may well have been a saving grace in our race's survival. Optimus Prime had no ability to use him to end the war, only prolong it. Megatron freed me to end the war before there was no recovery." There was a long pause. "Perhaps, in time, the three of us might create. Jazz is kindled. He has the hardware and software already."

Soundwave tensed. "It: is one of many possible outcomes," he said. He touched Prowl's face, turning it upwards towards him and accepted the reassuring kiss and gentle thoughts of love, devotion and the promise to be careful. "Soundwave: wants you to use caution. No matter what happens: we have each other."

"Always," Prowl pulsed all his emotions over the perpetually open bond. "I can't help but see every option, love. It's what I was created to do." He rested his forehelm against Soundwave's in contentment. "You come first. _We_ come first. I can't help but want to work for one of the brighter options, where the three of us are together again, because we all want to be together."

Soundwave smiled at him and felt what he wanted, and suddenly all of the symbiots were making themselves scarce. Soundwave lowered Prowl down and back to feel his bonded's spark against his own. It was eager, full of love and devotion, and so very pleasurable for them both.

* * *

Jazz couldn't be surprised when he was directed to the same hotel and room as before. Some things didn't change. He pinged at the hotel door and it opened immediately to reveal Prowl on the other side. Jazz's intake was sharp, and he leaned forward. 

"Payment and terms first," he forced himself to say against the mutual desire to just pounce each other.

Prowl nodded and stepped aside so Jazz could enter. His field was roiling with desire and anticipation, but the steel will of the mech was completely intact.

Jazz looked for something, _anything_ , that wasn't padded and practically launched himself for the table and chairs in the living room of the suite. 

"Drew this up," he said, and set a datapad with a short, basic contract on the table, which more clearly outlined the terms of their arrangement. "Gotta make plans before we start fragging or _that_ will happen again." 

Prowl nodded in both understanding and agreement as he sat down and picked up the contract as he locked down his lust. "Thank you," he said before he'd even finished reading it. 

"Yeah, yeah," Jazz said, and cleared out his vocalizer. "Um--some things never change, ya know?" He held the table to keep his hands still while Prowl read, doors twitching occasionally. The single klik it took Prowl to read, process and cue up comments was an eternity.

"All terms seem agreeable. You remember the Praxian Enforcer social contract form well," Prowl complemented him. It was such a simple form, a simple relationship. "How long do you anticipate this contract holding?"

Jazz just shrugged. "Long as we can stand it," he said. "Whatcha want today?"

Prowl's engine revved hard and he quickly signed the contract. "I want to watch you ride me for starters."

"Yeah, yes, _anything_ ," Jazz said as he grabbed and signed himself. "Just--ah want it all agreed on _first,_ yeah? No surprises." 

"No surprises is good," Prowl agreed as he stood and pulled Jazz into a heated kiss and backed towards the berth. His hands moved along Jazz's frame, enticing him to moan.

Jazz jumped up as Prowl lay down, legs going around Prowl's waist before he pressed down into the kiss. Prowl's spike cover slid open almost immediately, the spike pressurizing out between them as they kissed and stroked, moaning into the pleasure. Jazz dipped his hips down, rubbing the tip with his valve. The pieces touched and his grip on Prowl's shoulder tightened painfully.

"Please," Prowl shivered, his entire frame aching from the effort needed not to grab and thrust.

Jazz slid down further with a low groan, and then cursed. "Forgot," he gasped. "S'posed ta get it first--" He cut his own words off by pressing into a hard kiss, unable to stop himself. Prowl was in no better condition to understand the half-sentence as he kissed back and drove his hips up, focusing on nothing beyond touching his lover in every way possible as they lost themselves to the lust in their sparks.

* * *

Jazz looked up from the bar when Sidestep's teek grew a little too excited, just in time to see Prowl walking in. He shot his employee a mock glare. 

"Sorry," Sidestep said with a grin. "Can't help but love the drama." 

Jazz rolled his optics, mixed up one of Prowl's favorites, and headed over to his table. He was greeted with a smile and slightly embarrassed teek. "Can you stay for a klik?"

Jazz nodded and sat with an amused look. "Ya came not at the rush for once. Not interested in y' own in-house licensed drama?"

"Not particularly. You left something in the room," Prowl reached out to place his hand on Jazz's and a credit stick was slipped between them.

Jazz blushed immediately as he subspaced it with a rueful laugh. "Right, that."

"Yes, we seem to become very distracted when alone together," Prowl's rueful look held amusement as well. "Though I suppose we should be grateful that the public is enough to keep us behaving somewhat acceptably."

"Somewhat," Jazz agreed. "Still wouldn't put it past us if we pushed it too long." He looked down at their still-joined hands.

Prowl followed Jazz gaze and hummed. "True, and somehow I doubt the public, especially here, would do anything but cheer us on. It seems I am a much more agreeable leader when I've spent the night with you."

"Ah'm 'parently way funnier, too," Jazz said with a chuckle. "Either that or the staff is just giggling behind my back because they know ah'm gettin' blown but good. Maybe both." 

"Likely both," Prowl managed a slightly amused smile. "Or they just enjoy watching you be confounded. It's not a normal state for you."

"Heh. Nah. Sure isn't." Jazz shook his head. "Y' always were one ta confound me."

"As I understand it, that's usually your job," Prowl managed a playful look. "Particularly when you wanted to tease your mate."

Jazz grinned and ducked his helm. "Yeah, well, he was easy ta confound."

"One of the most brilliant tacticians Cybertron ever produced, and he was easy to confound?" Prowl actually chuckled. "I think you're downplaying your talent for it."

"He was _fun_ ta confound," Jazz said, looking at their interlocked fingers. "Helped him figure out that he was worthwhile as somethin' other than an Enforcer. And that he was slaggin' hot in berth. _'Specially_ fun ta confound in berth."

That got Prowl to raise an optic ridge. "How did you manage _that?_ Praxian Enforcers aren't much on interfacing restrictions."

"Not when it comes ta civilians," Jazz said. "That was what really broadsided him, the civilian thing. Guess ah got a thing for a mech in uniform."

Prowl hummed, shifting their grip so he could stroke Jazz's hand with his thumb. "What made him special, when you met? All Enforcers were built to look the same, other than rank, function and department markings."

"Yeah, but Prowler..." Jazz tilted his head with a half-grin. "Had this sort'a adorable cluelessness ta him. An' he was kind. Not all Enforcers were kind."

"Did he change as an Autobot? What I found on him ... outside a small circle, he wasn't well liked," Prowl asked gently.

"Can't be well liked an' do that job," Jazz said, smile slipping away. "Were _you_ well liked?"

Prowl shook his helm. "No Decepticon is well liked, but I was feared as well, am feared still, by more than I'd like. I understand why even an Autobot disciplinarian would not be popular." He hesitated. "...Was I kind?"

"Yeah." Jazz ran his thumb against Prowl's. "Y' were very kind." The door chimed, making him look up, and a group of five labor workers all came in, laughing and ready for their high grade. "Ah, 's the rush, gotta go. When d'ya want me next?" he asked, voice all business.

Prowl smoothly took the cue, though he only relaxed his hold on Jazz's hand rather than pulling away. "In two orns."

"Same time, same place?" 

"Affirmative," Prowl said with a small smile, and then Jazz slipped his hand away and retreated back to his work.

* * *

Jazz shuddered through the last of his overload and then slumped forward, Prowl against his back. They were panting, and both online. That didn't happen very often. 

He groaned when Prowl's thumb circled the top of his spike, smearing the last drops of transfluid around. "Primus, mech, ah might go mad doin' this but ah'll be the happiest madmech there ever was." 

"How can madness be so bad when it feels this good," Prowl shuddered as he pulled out, his desire to hold and snuggle overcoming his desire to overload again.

"'Zactly," Jazz sighed happily as they collapsed together and he rolled, pulling Prowl into a lazy kiss before remembering that they didn't do that and quickly turning his head.

Prowl didn't comment on the action, at least not directly, as he snuggled in. "Still prefer credits to attention?"

Jazz looked up at him through half-shuttered optics. "Prefer simplicity an' something easier than it is painful." 

"Can't argue that choice much," Prowl murmured, snuggling a little closer. "Wouldn't mind treating you to a nice meal sometime though. Just as maybe-friends?"

"Hmm." Jazz tucked against him and reached down to thread their fingers together. "Sure, as maybe-friends."

"Any favored places, when you want to have a nice, quiet meal and talk?" Prowl asked, his fingers tingling lightly from the contact and his thumb moving to stroke along Jazz's palm.

Jazz sighed and nuzzled against him, free hand playing along Prowl's armor. "Place Bee works at is nice, ah try ta get in there ta check up on him. It's quiet, lotsa booths."

Prowl hummed agreeable. "It is a rather nice place. Not one I've frequented often, but it is nice."

"So when should we have this not-a-date date?" Jazz asked.

"Before our next date here? Say in three orns?" Prowl suggested, his field warm and anticipating the meeting without interfacing.

"So we're agreeing it doesn't count for the two-orn count," Jazz said, then nodded. "Three orns." His hand slipped up away from Prowl's to settle on his pelvis, fingers dancing in a light pattern there. "Pretty sure ah remember us agreein' on a handjob, don't you?"

Prowl rumbled eagerly as his spike cover retracted. It hardly mattered that they hadn't discussed it. It sounded good and that was all he cared about in the moment.

* * *

Prowl was unaccountably nervous when he drove up to The Sheltered Spark and let Umbra out of his front passenger door before transforming. He hadn't planned on bringing the youngest cassette, but Umbra had whined until he agreed. It created a surge of warmth to think about it, to realize just how loyal the young felinoid was to him, because he was as much a creator to him as Soundwave.

He stroked Umbra's helm a couple times before straightening and walking inside.

The first mech to greet him was the orange and yellow minibot that had once been Bumblebee, Autobot scout. He smiled brightly and all but bounced over to him, field humming excitedly as it teeked Prowl's. "Hi! You're Prowl? You must be Prowl. Jazz said you would be coming tonight. Follow me, he wanted a place kinda away."

"Thank you," Prowl gave a doorwing flick of acceptance and followed the hyper minibot, Umbra close at his side.

"Not a party of two?" the minibot asked as they wove through the mostly empty tables towards a row of booths in the back. Three of them had curtains closed in front of them.

"Just two. Umbra just wants to lay at my pedes and listen," Prowl told him. "He likes it when folks pretend he's not there."

"Ah, of course," Bumblebee answered warmly. He looked down at the symbiot. "If you decide to wander, it's a good idea to not startle me, all right?" 

Umbra barked in understanding as they reached the far left booth. 

Bumblebee pulled the curtain back and bowed at the middle to motion Prowl to the booth across from the mech sitting inside. "Need anything else, Jazz?" he asked.

"Nah, thanks Bee," Jazz said. "Ah'll ring if we do."

"I hope you don't mind. Umbra insisted on coming at the last klik, for moral support," Prowl said quietly as he sat down across from Jazz and Umbra settled silently against Prowl's pede.

Jazz tilted to the side far enough to get a good look at the tiny red pinpricks of light that were Umbra's optics beneath the table. "Heya," he greeted the symbiot. "Saw some'a y' plans once, don't think we've been formally introduced though." 

Umbra gave a low rumble. 

Jazz nodded. "Ah getcha," he said. "No messin' with Prowler."

Umbra nodded slightly and moved to sniff Jazz's offered hand, got a pet and went back to his spot as Jazz straightened and looked at Prowl. "So ... not-a-date date."

"Just to talk, about ... anything really," Prowl said. "Like how you are doing?"

"Heh." Jazz glanced sideways, folding his hands together and resting them on the table. "Go ta work, go home, recharge, repeat," he said. "Not the most thrilling life ah ever led, but ah'm alive in this crazy shiny world, so..." He shrugged. "Sounders an' the kids? They're good? Always assumed so, 'cause'a how often ah feel like ah'm bein' watched." 

"Yes. Ravage is still angry, Umbra is confused by her anger, the others have let it go," Prowl smiled softly as he thought of his bonded and the cassettes. "Though you weren't being actively watched much before we crossed paths again." He paused and regarded Jazz steadily. "Does running the club make you happy?"

Jazz shrugged. "It's a thing ta do. Like the vibe, reminds me 'a bein' young. Keeps me up with the music bein' created now, an' the income is good. All things considered, yeah, ah like it."

Prowl thought about the answer. "What is it missing?"

"Truthfully?" Jazz said. "Ah miss havin' someone ta take care of. Been doin' is so long ... An' right after, there were all the bots who'd just been reformatted needed a place ta go, some others who just needed someone, then the strays and guttermecha, but there's hardly any 'a that now." He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Mecha ta care for."

"You could request a sparkling or three," Prowl suggested softly. "You'd be approved."

"A--ah..." Jazz gave a short laugh, ducked his helm, and rubbed the back of his neck. "How's the, ah, Commandanting going?"

"Long joors, largely dull. I'm productive and needed, but I can't say I enjoy it," Prowl admitted. "I much prefer patrolling."

"Yeah, y'always..." Jazz trailed off, teeking startled, and then there was a small chime from above. He quickly reached over to pull the curtain back. 

"If the gentlemecha are ready to place an order?" the black and white styled waiter asked. 

Prowl nodded, but glanced at Jazz.

"Yeah, mech," Jazz settled easily with a smile and motioned to Prowl to go first.

"The house special and a selection of sweets," Prowl ordered.

"Mm, good, ah can steal a few," Jazz said. "Somethin' strong and smooth, and those spicy wafers." 

The waiter dipped his helm in acknowledgement and left them alone again. 

Jazz looked back to Prowl. "Can't'cha take up a voluntary patrol?"

"I do whenever I have gotten far enough ahead of my workload to take half a shift outside," Prowl nodded. "That's why I was the first to arrive at the robbery. I was already on patrol in the area."

"Ahh, lucky coincidence," Jazz said with a grin. "Ya glad for it?"

"More often than not. You must admit it introduced a significant amount of stress into our lives. That was unwelcome. What we have begun to build ... that is worth the stress," Prowl said thoughtfully as touched over his spark. "This part of me was ecstatic and remains so."

Jazz nodded and his gaze lingered on that same spot. "Same." He reached over and slowly touched his fingers to Prowl's forehelm. "How about this part?"

"It ... has accepted that it isn't completely in charge where you are concerned," Prowl murmured, his field as conflicted as his processors and intentionally allowing Jazz to teek it. "Logic says that trusting you is tantamount to suicide. That I can never know what you intend, when you are playing me or why. It also says that if I take all I know of you, I should have predicted everything you did. That the shock and hurt was my failing to see what was there, and ultimately, was more my fault than yours." He allowed his optics to close and power down. "In the end, I, all of me, have decided that I _like_ your company. The physical may be an addiction, but that I simply like to be around you, to be there when you are in a good mood even if it isn't directed at me ... that I cannot say is anything other than wanting to be friends. That I _like_ you."

Jazz was silent, and after a long moment there was another chime followed by the delivery of their energon. The silence stretched on, then Jazz sighed. "Wasn't y' fault," he murmured. "Had ta make different versions of _me_ ta survive there, one of 'em wanted nothing more than ta take that box an' never leave."

"They were all mostly you though," Prowl said, though it was more a question than a statement.

Jazz ducked his head, breaking the optic contact. "Ya can ask Mirage if ya want confirmation, but there wasn't much of a central _me_ at that point, outside 'a the one tryin' ta save Cybertron. That was it. That's what everything had ta come from. Point is, if part of _me_ didn't know it was comin', there was no way _you_ could've."

"Looking back, my tac-net insists that enough was there to predict the probable intent, plan and outcome." Prowl said, then sighed. "I doubt it was any more reasonable before it was mine. It's a stubborn bit of hardware."

"Definitely wasn't any more reasonable," Jazz said with a fond smile, and earned one in return. "You ... aren't all that different, from the way he was before Praxus fell."

Prowl slipped a candy under the table before taking a sip of energon. "From all I've learned, not just about what it did to him but the effects of the war in general, I think that's a good thing. It must have been brutal on him to survive his city, then leave his world behind. Thinking about what he did, what he survived, amazes me that we came from the same code."

Jazz nodded, looking at the wall. "He wasn't alone. He had mecha ta live for."

"He had you," Prowl tentatively reached across the table and turned his hand palm up, offering and asking. "He was a lucky mecha."

Jazz looked at the hand before slipping his onto it in answer. "Nah, mech, that was me."

"I suspect he would disagree with you," Prowl smiled as they gently held hands. "You seem to brighten every life you become part of."

"Now y' just flatterin' me," Jazz said.

"Is it flattery when it is the truth?" Prowl asked, shyly happy.

"Is when it's comin' from you," Jazz murmured, and x-vented, the temperature of the dispelled air noticeably higher. 

Prowl actually ducked his helm, his doorwings giving a teasing flutter before he forcefully stilled them. "We are supposed to be talking, making friends here," Prowl's field gave no doubt that he was heating up just as fast as Jazz. "Not flirting." He used his free hand to slip another candy under the table.

"Right, that," Jazz chuckled, and finally took a sip of his drink. His fingers still tightened around Prowl's. "What's Soundwave up ta these orns?"

"Gathering intel, maintaining security and communications networks, raising Umbra," Prowl actually chuckled at that one. "At least when he can get Umbra away from me."

"He's a fan, huh?" Jazz asked with a smile before he glanced to their hands and ran his thumb against Prowl's. "How's Soundwave feel about me?"

"He misses you," Prowl said softly.

"Mm." Jazz's smile turned wry as he tilted his head a bit, still looking at their hands. "D'ya get why ah left?"

"I believe so, and as much as it hurt, and as much as I wish you had spoken differently about it at the time, I've come to believe it was a good choice. You needed time. To grieve, to find yourself, to be something other than in our shadow. As much as you say you wanted the parting to be forever, that wasn't going to happen unless you left Cybertron."

"Yeah. Think ah knew that too. Shoulda, anyway." Jazz drew in a deep intake and cycled it through slowly. His spark was pulsing with lazy happiness in his chest, deep _thrums_ that worked their way into his field no matter how still he tried to keep it. "Can't go back ta what we were like, though. Won't. Can't live my life feelin' like ah'm just satin' an addiction."

Prowl's optics dropped slightly before meeting Jazz's gaze. "I've made no secret that I want you back, as my lover, as our mate. I'll do what you need to believe that and be ready to follow us into a triad bond."

Jazz stared hard across the table. "We have a past. Even if ya don't remember it. And never will. Need ya ta acknowledge it an' not try ta hide from it. Ah get that y' not the same, believe me, never forgettin' that again. But it's still shaping you, and it has shaped me, and ah won't ignore it."

"I am not ignoring it. I've asked about the original Prowl to learn about him, learn what this frame was like for so long," Prowl tried to explain. "There is no easy way for us to get past this, other than talking, and if I can convince my tac-net to stop screeching, maybe some memory sharing. I ... would like to know about what I was like before, about the mech that you fell in love with so deeply, and made my spark fall so completely in love with you."

Jazz's stare held for another long moment, then the tension drained from him with an x-vent and he nodded, his grip on Prowl's hand tightening almost painfully. "Okay," he whispered, nodding. "Okay, yeah, 's all ah want."

Prowl squeezed in reply, and drew Jazz's hand up for a kiss. "Whatever you need to be ready to move forward with _me_ , I'm prepared to give."

Jazz gave him a fond smile. "Ah think ... that's what ah needed ta hear. Just, one step at a time, yeah?"

"Yes," Prowl agreed firmly. "One step at a time, and tell me what you want. I'll do my best to provide it."

"Dinner's a good place ta start," Jazz said. "Courted ya, what, three and a half times now?" His smile widened into a grin. "Think it's your turn."

"I would say two, but either way, I accept," Prowl gave a small, teasing smile, then reached across with his free hand and lifted one of the spicy wafers and set it against Jazz's lip. "I will court you, Jazz, and then we will court you."

Jazz took the wafer slowly and licked the remnants off of Prowl's fingers, visor shining. He hummed as it dissolved in his mouth, then reached over to give Prowl one of the candies. "How 'bout we call off the fee, in light of recent developments."

"If you are ready, I would be delighted to be your lover," Prowl nearly moaned as the hard candy slipped between his lip plates and he sucked Jazz's fingers in with it to lick them.

"Think so," Jazz murmured, entranced by the view. "Might get emotional on ya, just so ya know." His internal temperature skyrocketed suddenly and he glanced away. "Umbra like spicy things?"

"He likes to try anything at least once, and yes, he does enjoy spicy, and sweet, and pretends to like sour and acidic because I do. He's also very fond of high grade," Prowl chuckled as he felt the felinoid move to Jazz's side of the table. "He enjoys high grade a bit too much."

"Bet a 'charged up kitty's a nightmare," Jazz said with a grin as he slipped one of the wafers down to the symbiot. It was taken with a delicate touch, then Jazz's fingers were licked clean.

"Decidedly so," Prowl chuckled at the memories. "Fortunately for us, he tends to focus on Ravage and trying to get her to play."

"Ah'm glad she has someone her build ta romp with," Jazz hummed, and slipped down another wafer. It was promptly taken and a warmth pressed against his leg with a low purr intended to convey happiness without disrupting the conversation.

"So is she, most of the time," Prowl smiled, his field warming with pleasure that the symbiot closest to him liked Jazz enough to eat an unknown treat from his hand. "He's still a bit on the young side for her sometimes. I'm glad he likes you."

"Me too," Jazz said, rubbing Umbra's head. It earned him a deeper purr from the symbiot and a smile from Prowl.

"So before we met again, what were your hopes for the future?" Prowl asked.

"Mm, pretty much the plan was ta not die," Jazz said, quirking a grin. "Seems ta be my _raison d'etre_." 

Prowl couldn't help the sorrow in his field. "I ... had hoped you had done better."

"Not all as bad as it sounds," Jazz said. "Got 'Raj ta look after, he wants creations when the twins are up ta it. And there's Bee, my other agents, had lotsa mecha around ta keep on for." He heaved a deep x-vent. "Dunno, mech, ah've had a lotta reasons ta live and go on and they all seem to end at some point, so ah figure, my reason is just ... ta survive. Or, was, at least."

"War has done cruel things to most mecha," Prowl accepted quietly. "You've found something worthy of going beyond survival?" he asked, hopeful.

"Mighta," Jazz said, tilting his head at the Praxian. He gave a wry smile. "Probably."

"That's a good thing," Prowl gently squeezed Jazz's hand. "Living is about more than surviving."

"Startin' ta remember that," Jazz said, squeezing back.

"Good," Prowl smiled softly, only to frown when he heard Umbra bump against Jazz's leg.

The former commander started and looked down, seeing shining red optics looking back at him. "Too sappy for ya?" he asked. 

Umbra bumped against him again with a bark. 

"All right," Jazz said with a chuckle and slipped a few more of the wafers under the table, glancing up at Prowl. "Why'd ya bring a sitter, anyway?" he teased.

"Because I can't stand it when he whines," Prowl sighed. "He wanted to meet you, but the real reason is that he knows I give him treats when we're out."

"Ahh," Jazz said, and slipped his hand out of Prowl's to reach for his drink. "Thank you," he said. "For asking me ta dinner."

"Thank you for joining me," Prowl smiled a bit more warmly and took a sip from his drink now that he recalled it was there. "I'd like to go out again sometime soon. Or home with you tonight, if you'd enjoy it."

Jazz's vents caught for a moment. "Ah ... think ah'd like ta talk a bit more before that," he finally murmured.

"Then perhaps lunch, well, mid-day, at Mixmaster's cafe?" Prowl suggested, his field extending to caress Jazz with assurance that his choice was accepted with no hurt feelings.

"In two orns," Jazz said with a smile, his field stroking back with thanks for the understanding. He had changed a lot from their contract ... a now completely defunct contract ... that Prowl was bound to make a few missteps. "Why don't we write out a new contract while we finish?"

"I'd like that," Prowl's voice was calm, but his doorwings and field betrayed just how much relief was in him.


	3. Courting

After four dates, Jazz suggested a meal at his place after closing. Surprised but delighted, Prowl had been quick and rather giddy to agree. He'd honestly expected to have to work much harder to be invited to Jazz's home, but then if his spark was any indication, Jazz's spark might not be taking the lack of merges in half a decaorn well.

That first unexpected, desperate merge had undone five centuries of learned tolerance for the absence of each other, and Prowl knew neither of them was going to last much longer without another. They simply didn't have the willpower for it, not with their fields mingled so close all the time. Even during their public dates, even if they weren't touching, their fields were, and their sparks were _hungry_.

"Hey," Jazz said, mouth quirked into a half smile when he opened the door after Prowl chimed. He gestured with his helm. "C'mon in."

"Thank you," Prowl dipped his doorwings in thanks and walked into the fairly simple but cleanly designed two story apartment. While it wasn't a display in the traditional sense, Prowl could see and perceive all the upgrades that made it a significant investment. He had no doubt that the entertainment room would be at least as lavish an investment as the washrack was in the apartment Prowl shared with Soundwave. "Did your orn go well?"

"As good as any of 'em go," Jazz said, leading him through the entryway. There was a central staircase leading up to a second floor where Prowl guessed the berthroom was, just from the basic layout that he could see. There was a small kitchen tucked around the entryway, separated by a wall, and in front of him was the lounge area, complete with colored lights and a large vid screen. Speakers were set into the brightly painted walls, with new age style lounges and chairs. There was a window in the back, looking out over the city, and a small dining area set beneath the staircase. "Anywhere ya'd like," Jazz said, ducking into the kitchen.

Prowl considered the options and selected a lounge with a good view of the window. Jazz could sit next to him, or in a spot nearby. It allowed the level of intimacy to be under Jazz's control. He gazed out at the city and the lights that were still lit in the late, late night, and barely heard Jazz approaching. He could see the approach clearly with his doorwings, and then Jazz slipped into the seat next to him, handing him a cube. 

"Like the view," he said, following Prowl's optics. "Seein' the city grow makes it feel like everything was worth it."

"Yes, and I agree. Watching Cybertron recover does make it worth it," Prowl said with a sip, and hum of pleasure at the mix that was exactly to his tastes. "Things have improved greatly in the past few centuries."

"Thanks in no small part ta y'self and Sounders," Jazz said with a smile.

"Because of you," Prowl added, the hurt and anger over those events long since faded. "It may have happened entirely too late if left to me."

"All ah did was get Megatron out," Jazz said. " _You_ helped the planet. But anyway. How was y' orn? This isn't too late for ya, is it?"

"No, I took a nap after my shift," Prowl assured him and sipped the energon. "It was reasonably quiet, thankfully. There is not yet a population base that produces enough criminals to create major events every orn."

Jazz nodded. "Picked up a new orphan today," he said, and then at Prowl's slightly alarmed look, hurried to reassure him. "Nah, not like, _orphan_ orphan, just one 'a the ones that doesn't know what they want, kinda lost in life. Sweet little thing, barely an adult. The war's just a story ta him, it's so strange."

"Who is it?" Prowl asked, curious as to both the individual and wondering if he needed to look into his creators. "I'm glad you're there for those who aren't ready to ask for government help."

"Dulcet," Jazz said. "Was _certain_ he wanted ta go ta university, study astronomy, then he got there an' just didn't feel like himself anymore, so he dropped out an' started travelin'." He chuckled lightly. "First it was war damaged and reformatted mecha, now it's sparklings lookin' for their true selves."

"Ah. I saw the notice about him dropping out, but since he's stayed out of trouble I didn't get much else on it," Prowl relaxed. "I expect every generation will have a few like that."

"You keep tabs on every mecha on this planet?" Jazz asked with a laugh, and a tone like he already knew the answer.

"I track criminals, Soundwave tracks _everyone_ ," Prowl chuckled softly. "I just know about Dulcet because we talk about the events of the orn. Things are quiet enough that dropping out of university qualifies."

"Ah can see how it'd look suspicious," Jazz hummed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. "But he's a good spark. Just a little lost."

"You seem very good at directing lost sparks, no matter why they're lost. How are Mirage and the twins?" Prowl asked after a sip and sigh of contentment. "I know they're doing well as far as finances and not getting into trouble, but you actually know _them_."

"They're good," Jazz said with a smile. "Saw Sideswipe tonight, actually, he was in the area and ducked in for a drink. Think they'll want ta kindle soon. 'Raj's itchin' for it. 'S pretty much what he was made for and he's waited long enough, y'know?"

"I can imagine," Prowl said softly, his spark aching for a good mecha who'd been denied his function, no matter how alien that function was to him. "What about Bumblebee?"

"Mm. Bee..." Jazz tilted his helm a bit. "He likes working. Bein' busy. Hasn't really settled on any one place or bot. Think he's feelin' his age but doesn't have the memory ta back it up." He slipped a hand over to cover Prowl's. 

Prowl nodded and turned his hand over so they could interlace their fingers. He focused on those fingers for a long klik, his field simmering with the hunger they were both used to ignoring. "Would ... I believe I would like to memory share. To know about your first mate."

Jazz's fingers tightened and Prowl could feel his field working to steady itself for a long moment. "Memory share's a bit intense, mech, sure ya wanna start that way?" Jazz finally asked before finishing his high grade so he could set the cube aside and move his other hand over. "Don't wanna scare ya away by comin' on too strong. Ah mean, if ya wanna do it that way don't get me wrong, ah'm all for it, easy." 

"Since Soundwave admitted to who I had been, he has given me access to all the records and surveillance, and his personal knowledge, of who and what I was, what I was like," Prowl steadied himself. "He kept original copies of every file that was stripped or deleted of the first Prowl's existence. I've read so much, watched thousands of joors of vids. I read the personal journals that survived and mentioned him. What I don't have is first-hand knowledge of him." Prowl shook his helm and tried to refocus. "Yes, I'd like to memory share. I'd like to know about _your_ perspective of him, what made him special to you."

Jazz nodded as a hard shiver went through his frame. "So ... did he keep all the public vid of ya when we'd get caught by the cameras?" 

"Yes," Prowl shivered with arousal as he recalled watching them. "Whose desires did that fill?"

"Both," Jazz said with a grin. "Me, ah liked the risk, and y' always liked ta indulge. 'Specially since it meant ya got good vids 'a us later. Y' always liked those."

"Not as much as the real thing, but I can easily see how desirable they'd be when you were on a long mission," Prowl purred deep in his chest. "Did your desires run as hot and insatiable as they have been with us?"

Jazz lifted their joined hands and pressed his mouth to Prowl's, visor flickering lightly in memory. "Very much so. 'Lash always said we were addicted ta each other. 'Course, took some time, but once we were there..." He hummed deeply. "Yeah."

Prowl shivered and chased the kiss, hungry and his field rich with building need. "I am very much addicted to you, and I have no desire to detox. Please, share with me something early on."

Jazz x-vented and reached for his cable as Prowl did the same and they plugged into each other without having to look. ~This is the first time y' agreed ta see me outside work,~ he said, and Prowl saw himself through Jazz's optics arriving at an outdoor cafe. He looked uncertain, but still excited, and joined Jazz at the small table. ~Took _forever_ ta getcha ta agree ta see a convicted criminal somewhere that wasn't a jail cell.~

~I'm honestly not surprised,~ Prowl murmured as he sank into the memory, willing to experience it fully.

It was an old file, fuzzy on the details and battered from upgrades and firewalls and hacks and wars, but what stood out clearly to him was the way his doorwings slowly relaxed, and the excitement he could feel in Jazz with every klik that Prowl didn't leave. What they spoke about hadn't survived, only the tone of Prowl's voice, the quick pulsing of Jazz's spark, and a _need_ that Prowl recognized very clearly.

~Our attraction wasn't familiarity,~ Prowl murmured in shock. ~It existed before we ever kissed.~

~Yeah, well, wouldn't go so far as ta say that it was resonance, or anything like that,~ Jazz said. ~Ah'd had some time ta charm ya, after ah decided ya weren't the most stubborn, irritating Enforcer ah'd ever met. Ya never let things slide,~ he chuckled. ~No matter how much ah flirted. Y' were kinda annoying. But yeah. We felt it pretty quick.~

~Did he ever let anything slide, after you were together?~ Prowl asked, genuinely curious and aware that he would, and had.

~Not if it was a public transgression,~ Jazz said. ~He'd still arrest me if ah played without a permit, or in a no loiterin' zone. But yeah.~ He grinned, and Prowl watched another memory slip into place. Jazz was driving, _fast_ , around a darkened track. Even without knowing from the memory, Prowl knew that it was after closing and Jazz wasn't supposed to be there.

Sensors picked up an alt mode on his tail and Jazz raced faster, trying to get away even as he was thrilled that Prowl hadn't turned his lights on. 

They were racing.

They were _chasing_. 

~If ah could convince ya it was a victimless crime, an' no one else could see it, usually ah could get away with it,~ Jazz purred as the lines of the road flashed by beneath him, looking like a solid line at these speeds. 

~That this got him revved up beyond measure certainly did not hurt your argument,~ Prowl rumbled.

~Mm, he wasn't always this enthusiastic,~ Jazz chuckled. ~But yeah. This one was easy.~ Impact hit from behind, and that moment was clear and vivid in Jazz's mind, the way it felt when Prowl's form unfolded into root mode to pounce on top of him when he caught up by cutting dangerously across a curve. The arousal, the hunger to sink into another, was thick in the memory-Prowl's field and it was something the current Prowl knew well and responded to just as strongly.

How Prowl held himself still while the memory played through the rather rough but very enjoyable interface from Jazz's perspective was an act of intense will that left him hot, charged and with his fans already on high.

Jazz let the memory fade a bit and shifted forward in time to when they'd collapsed against each other, holding and kissing, enjoying the excitement and the _newness_ of it all.

~It was more than just that, but that was a big part, the thrill and the 'facing,~ Jazz purred. ~Especially in Praxus.~

Prowl nodded faintly as he struggled to calm himself down. He hadn't expected anything with interfacing in it and hadn't taken any precautions to stop himself from reacting.

~Ah, sorry,~ Jazz sighed. He glanced off to the side, then leaned in and kissed Prowl softly. ~How bad 's it?~

~If ... if you don't want to 'face, no more erotic memories, please,~ Prowl responded as he began to notch his arousal down. ~I don't have that much resistance to you.~

Jazz's vents hitched a little, and then he pulled up a memory of a berth, and then Prowl knew it was _their_ berth, in their home, the place that Jazz still went to in his mind when he thought of _home_. It didn't matter that it had been gone for millennia. ~Thank you,~ he murmured as he pressed another kiss that was responded to ardently. ~For bein' willing ta learn about us.~

~It is important to you,~ Prowl shivered at the implication of the berth. ~I want to know about what's important to you.~

Jazz nodded, then rose to his pedes and pulled Prowl along with him, the lights dimming around them as they made their way to the staircase and to the second floor. 

Prowl saw three closed doors around a small, L-shaped hallway with railings that overlooked the main level. Jazz pressed his palm to the first one on the left and it slid open. The lights came on dimly as they went inside and Jazz turned around after they were locked inside, looking at Prowl silently, a modest berth behind him.

"Sparks?" Prowl's voice was thick with desire as he leaned forward to kiss Jazz, his plating trembling slightly with the need building inside him.

" _Yes,_ " Jazz whispered, and drew him backwards towards the berth. It took every scrap of will Prowl had to keep from touching, from doing more than the contract permitted as he settled over Jazz on the berth. The kisses became more demanding, more needy. Prowl's chest armor was already unlocked, but he managed to keep it closed, following the rules of the contract that the only intimacy he was allowed to initiate was kissing.

When he finally heard Jazz's chest open and felt the fingers pushing at his own, he moaned with relief and stopped holding back. His crystal spiraled into view in time with Jazz's and their mouths stilled against each other as spark energy reached out, searched, stroked and joined. If they were relieved to finally merge again, their sparks were doubly so.

Joy suffused the merge, filling in the empty spaces with warmth and promises of never being alone, never being _apart_ , again.

Slowly, they began to kiss again, moving carefully and gently with their crystals exposed as sparks twisted deeper together. Trusting each other to move with the care needed not to damage the fragile housings. Prowl's weight shifted forward onto his elbows, arms slipping beneath Jazz's shoulders and hands going to the swept-back sensor horns. He stroked in a slow, even pattern, and Jazz's fingers buried themselves in his shoulders, dancing along the wires there. 

~ _Here,_ ~ Jazz's spark moaned blissfully, throbbing in its relief that Prowl's matched. They danced and swirled, merging deeper with each pulse.

~Love you,~ Prowl moaned through their sparks, through the hardline that still connected them, against Jazz's lip plates.

~Always love you,~ echoed back every part of Jazz.

* * *

Several overloads later, and with their chests finally closed, both of their sparks needing to recover from the intense merging, Jazz was reclining back against the pillows that had been shoved up to the top of the berth, Prowl's helm in his lap, the Praxian flopped across his legs. He was rubbing the chevron and looking out the window at the sky that was just starting to lighten into dawn. 

"Wanna hear how we met?" Jazz murmured, carefully, the question that had once almost destroyed everything.

"Yes, if you'd like to share," Prowl replied, his frame without tension and his field still relaxed.

Jazz hummed and smiled, resting his helm back. "Y' arrested me," he said with a chuckle. "Though the first time ah saw ya was when ya gave me a citation, for playin' on a corner without a permit. Ah left, then went back the next orn 'cause there'd been good credits in that neighborhood." He grinned. "Thought y' were the most annoying aft, most officers just gave a verbal warning, but _you_ had ta write the citation out. So then y' arrested me and ah spent the night in county, and found a different corner. Then y' arrested me _again,_ " Jazz said with a laugh. "Probably five, six times ah had ta hear that damn line read at me in a metacycle. 'Article 6, section C 'a the public regulation laws, pursuant ta Praxian Public Conduct and Permissions--'"

"'--Regarding illegal use of city property for non-taxed and non-permissible behavior and gain," Prowl finished in unison with him. 

"Yeah, that," Jazz said, stroking his chevron, field pressing out warmly. 

"Even if I never recall enforcing them, I know every Praxian law," Prowl purred softly, his processors drifting through pre-war Praxus gleaned from Jazz's memories.

"After a while, ah accused ya 'a stalkin' me," Jazz said with a smile in his voice. "Ah flirted with ya, 'a course, did it with anyone who put handcuffs on me, but ya just got so flustered about it every time. Thing is ... y' treated me better than anyone who'd ever arrested me before. Every time ah got the same talk and the same treatment. But ya kept findin' me, no matter which corner ah tried ta make my own." 

"My district, my territory, every orn sent out to hunt criminals great and small," Prowl murmured, his optics off as he listened and dreamed of a city he'd never seen. "Probably already liked you, felt sorry for you, that the law hurt you when you didn't hurt anyone."

"Mhmm. Asked ya ta go out with me from a jail cell," Jazz said with a grin. "Ya said no, 'a course, but ... ah'm stubborn when ah want somethin'. Asked ya why not and ya told me it was against regulations ta date a criminal, so ah just kept askin', and saved up for a permit. Expensive fraggers, but ah got it, and ya went ta arrest me..." Jazz's grin was easy to teek. "An' ah said ya didn't have any more excuses."

Prowl chuckled. "Stubborn and perceptive. Now long before he said yes to a date?"

"Caught him when he was off duty the next orn," Jazz said. "Memorized y' closing patrol route by then. Offered ta pay, and that was all it took." His fingers traced Prowl's chevron. "Metacycle later, ya agreed ta another date. That was the first time ah convinced ya ta break a law with me. Victimless crime, going double the limit on an empty road." 

Prowl chuckled. "He must have been very smitten to cross the line that quickly."

"Well, ah don't like ta brag, but..." Jazz said with a grin. "Ah'm a known charmer."

"Indeed," Prowl's good mood infused his field. "How did you end up in Praxus?"

"Heh. That's..." Jazz's hand stilled for a moment. "'S not the most glamorous story, y' up for that?"

"If you wish to share it now," Prowl said softly, his field gentle. "Given you were a street performer without a permit, I calculated you did not arrive in Praxus on tour."

"Nada," Jazz said, starting to pet again. "Got ta Praxus after Simfur, when someone told me Praxians were more generous than most. Which was true, by the way. But Simfur came after Tyger Pax came after Central City came after Polyhex." 

"Where you were created," Prowl said. "And grew up?"

"Created. Only kinda grew up there," Jazz said. "Made it about seventy vorns. Ah ... didn't have the greatest creators. Kinda some 'a the worst, really. Figured out pretty quick that if ah didn't want my story ta end in that place ah needed ta get out, so ah stole everything ah could fit in my subspace an' hit the road." He paused, smirking. "Such as ah could."

Prowl pondered that for a lingering moment. "You were always quite the survivor then, long before most would find out if they were. You actually walked to Central City?"

"Oh, ah wish ah could say that," Jazz said with a laugh. "That would sound much more impressive than hitchhiking and stowin' away on any transport ah could get close enough to. But there was a fair amount 'a walkin', too. At least it felt like it."

"It may be more impressive, but far less intelligent," Prowl pointed out reasonably. "It would take far more energy. Where in the sequence did you get your upgrades?"

"Tyger Pax for the mechling upgrades, Simfur for the adult," Jazz said, nodding faintly. "Mechling ones were easy, 'cause they gave me somethin' ta barter with an' ah could get someone else ta pay. Adult ones took forever an' every scrap ah had, but ah got 'em, an' on my own terms."

Prowl fell silent as he contemplated what was said, and unsaid. "Do you regret what you did to get your mechling upgrades?"

Jazz thought about it for a almost a klik, then slowly shook his head. "Wasn't my favorite time in my life, but nah, no reason ta regret it. Just, had ta happen. Got me where ah needed ta be. No, the things ah regret..." He trailed off, sighed. "Ah regret not doin' more ta help ya go against the Prime. If ah could change just one thing..."

"It may have changed nothing, or everything," Prowl murmured as he reached up to captured Jazz's free hand in his. "By all accounts Prime was a stubborn being."

Jazz's fingers wrapped around his. "Yeah," he said. He tilted his helm forward to look down at Prowl. "Sometimes ah regret not stayin'."

"When?" Prowl asked, curious at the timing, because he'd never stopped regretting it.

"Sometimes seein' Mirage an' the twins," Jazz said. "Sometimes comin' home alone. It's good ah didn't, ah know that, woulda been a mess for all of us, but..." He shivered and curled forward, covering Prowl and pulling his hand up to his mouth to kiss. "Never stopped loving you, even when ah forgot."

Prowl shivered at the admission, emotions grew thick in his field even as they were difficult to identify. "As difficult as it is to comprehend, I never stopped loving you either, even when I didn't know your designation."

"Ah know," Jazz whispered, and shifted to slide out from under Prowl, stretching out next to him on the berth. He pressed in for a kiss, arm going around Prowl's waist and leg hooking up to cover Prowl's. His kiss was returned, Prowl pressing closer, more than content to indulge in close contact and sweet kisses until they drifted into recharge.


	4. Complicating Things

Jazz felt Prowl's fingers slip over his own and he turned his hand up to meet them, linking them together as they watched the concert. 

The music was interesting, that was for sure. The post-war mecha, those who'd been created into peace, had a style all their own, and Jazz thought he could definitely learn to dig it. They were at a concert for one of the newer groups, an outing that Prowl had invited him on, as something he hoped Jazz would enjoy. Jazz had no doubt it had been arranged just for him. There was no way Prowl would have gone on his own, and Soundwave had been unusually insistent about having a seat on the far side of the music hall. They were all in the best seats in the house, it simply wouldn't do for Prowl or Soundwave to be anywhere else, but it was apparent that they had coordinated enough that Soundwave couldn't easily listen in to them with so many minds in the way.

Teeking Prowl now was so much like teeking the original Prowl going to a concert that it was eerie. Jazz couldn't help but wonder if this Prowl had the same sense of rhythm that his predecessor had.

A bit curious now, he snicked open the jack in his wrist, offering it up to a cord from Prowl. There was a moment of hesitation, something that was also so very Prowl, and the Praxian plugged in. All that was on Prowl's side was a floating curiosity. Unlike when Prowl was working, he didn't make any demands.

~Whatcha think?~ Jazz asked. ~Ah like it--kinda ethereal but still rockish? Ah've definitely heard stranger,~ he added with a chuckle.

~With all the worlds you've been too, I have no doubt,~ Prowl agreed with a swirl of amusement. ~It is not the worst I've heard, though not the best. They'll do well though, I expect. They fill a need that few can.~

~They definitely will,~ Jazz agreed. He smiled and shook his head. ~Primus but ah feel old. Youngsters here that haven't even seen a millennium, gettin' ta make their own world and their own culture.~

~It is not a bad thing, to be able to shape the culture you exist in,~ Prowl said with a sense that it was not an easy concept for him. He had been created to reinforce the culture he was part us as well as the one he patrolled. Even post-war, what he'd created with his Enforcers was a fairly close reproduction to the Enforcer culture he'd been coded with. ~You are old, Jazz. One of the oldest still functioning.~

~If ya don't count the reformatted ones...~ Jazz tried to think of someone, anyone older than he was. ~Heh, oh mech. That's a trip. Ah'm practically decrepit.~

~Even counting them, there are few,~ Prowl added. ~You are hardly decrepit, however. You are in fine condition, and you can wear me out quite effectively.~

Jazz hummed and tickled Prowl's palm lightly and pulsed over the small charge that the wrist line would allow. ~Can ah now,~ he purred. ~Well that's always an ego booster ta hear.~

~I would rather expect hearing me roar your designation time and again as you drive me into overload until I shut down would be more effective,~ Prowl purred, pushing some of what it felt like to be deep inside Jazz's valve as the skilled manipulations took all control from him and he willingly gave in.

~Mmm, ya _do_ know how ta _stroke_ an ego,~ Jazz said with a shiver for the image provided. ~Ah can think of a few things ah'd like ta stroke once ah have the chance.~

~When we reach a berth,~ Prowl promised, hungry and eager, along with a teasing hint that he had something special planned. ~Assuming you are still in the mood when the concert is over and we reach your place.~ A sensory image of Jazz stroking and kissing his spark chamber followed.

~ _Ah_ , mech, ya got no idea,~ Jazz said, stifling a moan with his other hand on his throat. ~If ah throw stuff at the stage, think it'll end sooner?~

~Don't you dare,~ Prowl grinned only over the hardline. ~You will enjoy the show, and drive _safely_ home, and then we shall indulge. I will not be getting up until the scheduled end time, or when they finish, whichever is later.~ Another teasing image, a visual of Jazz kissing Prowl's fully pressurized spike from Prowl's point of view drifted after the words. ~Celebrate the return of a true music scene. Cybertron has recovered enough to support mecha who do nothing but create and perform indulgences. We have worked very hard for it. Enjoy.~

~Nn. Y' a cruel mech, ya know?~ Jazz said with a grin. ~Ah'll think 'a somethin', don't ya worry.~ The color of Prowl's spark chamber flashed through his mind, the way the texture felt under his glossa and Prowl shivered faintly. If Thundercracker or Skywarp noticed, the only response was a knowing wink and grin from the black Seeker.

In retaliation, Prowl sent over the look Jazz had, completely debouched, his frame slick with fluids, his armor still parted to display his spark. Then movement, and Jazz knew even without the sensations Prowl sent along, that his lover was thrusting into him, teasing him with light touches.

~Oh, _frag_ you,~ Jazz chuckled, and sent Prowl an image of what it looked like when Jazz was on his knees, Prowl's spike in his mouth. 

By the time the concert ended, their fans were being forcefully silenced, their frames were burning, and the pair of Seekers next to them were having to stifle their laughter. 

"You bots want a ride home?" Skywarp asked from behind his hands as he tried to hide the grin.

"Yes," Prowl answered without thinking.

The teleporter leaned over to kiss his trinemate briefly before grabbing hold of both Prowl and Jazz, and suddenly they were in Jazz's apartment. 

"...Should ah ask how ya know this spot ta jump?" Jazz asked. 

"No," Skywarp said with a grin before vanishing. 

"Never ask why he knows something like that," Prowl chuckled and grabbed Jazz for a hard, almost desperate kiss. Lust licked at Jazz's field and frame from Prowl, but it was difficult to tell who was more keyed up. "Surprise, sparks or do I fill you first?"

"Nn, one 'a the options is surprise?" Jazz answered with a moan, hands going to Prowl's shoulders as he drew his leg up along the Praxian's frame. "Think ah hafta go with that for sure."

"As you wish," Prowl purred with a surge of desire as he guided Jazz towards the berth. Instead of pushing him down, though, he turned and fell back himself to draw Jazz down on top of him. There was the sound of an interface cover snapping open, but Prowl's spike didn't rise between them.

Jazz paused for a moment, confused, before his visor brightened and he snaked his hand down between them to slip between Prowl's thighs, feeling the slickness of his valve. He shuddered and x-vented, and pressed forward for a hard kiss that was returned through Prowl's moan.

"Want you, all of you. Want to give all of me," Prowl gasped as he spread his legs and rolled into the touch.

"It's yours," Jazz said into Prowl's mouth. He shifted to settle himself between Prowl's legs and pushed them further open with his thighs as his spike cover drew back. Their arrays came flush, then the tip of Jazz's spike extended against Prowl, rubbing through the soft outer platelets with each shallow rock. " _Thank you,_ " Jazz moaned.

Prowl's field had to answer for him, the rush and pleasure thick between them with just that tiny contact. The most coherent response he was capable of voicing was a thick, need-filled moan of want. It was all Jazz could take as he pushed forward, brought everything together, and extended into Prowl's valve. His head lowered down and he pressed his mouth to Prowl's throat, moaning there as he stilled, relishing the moment. It was just as perfected as he'd never dared dream of, an act he'd almost never expected to be granted again. 

Under him and around him, Prowl shivered and cycled his valve mechanisms, trying to coax Jazz into moving.

Jazz bit back the gasp and pulled out, reaching back as he did to hook his arm under one of Prowl's legs. He pulled it high as he rocked forward, braced himself on his free arm, and started thrusting in a slow, even rhythm. Under him his lover trembled and moved with him as easily as when they'd been together for ages. Prowl's optics dimmed and his features went slack with pleasure as he surrendered completely to his lover and the bliss of their joining.

"Jazzz," Prowl's moan was deep and thick, rich with desire and pleasure and the complete _rightness_ of it all.

"Love makin' love ta ya," Jazz whispered, voice labored and heavy with static, but the words were clear. "Y' so beautiful like this, love drivin' ya."

"Love you," Prowl panted, shaking with want and roiling pleasure that surged through his frame as it began to white out peripheral systems. "Want you. Need you." His vocalizer spit static and reset. "With me, please. Jazzzzz."

Jazz's mouth closed around his neck and Jazz gave two sharp thrusts forward, gripped Prowl tightly, and shuddered into his overload as he spilled inside his mate. His vocalizer gave a sharp whine before cutting entirely, leaving his frame with nothing but the revving of his engine to express its ecstasy. His spark and processors were in a similar state, and he could feel it clearly that Prowl was just as lost in it.

Before they were even fully in control of their frames again, Prowl's armor unlocked. Jazz's answered immediately and the shivering aftershocks of their overload turned into the shudders of a spark merge, mouths pressed together, and the world faded away.

* * *

Soundwave looked up from his work when he heard Prowl come home, felt Umbra brush by his leg, and heard Buzzsaw swoop overhead. Ravage looked up, then curled back onto his lap, purring steadily. Soundwave stroked her back, then stood to follow. 

The bond was radiating happiness and contentment after spending the orn with Jazz, as it always did, and Soundwave had felt their merge. The last vorn had been full of such merges, first almost frenzied in their need for each other, and now, given time to settle and trust that they wouldn't be parted again, were calmer and deeper. 

Soundwave wasn't prone to jealousy, it was an unhelpful and illogical emotion, but he couldn't help but wish to be with them. The thought was wiped from active processors when Prowl closed the distance and pressed close for a long, love-filled kiss of welcome and thanks for tolerating that Prowl had such need for another. It was the thing that helped keep the jealousy at bay. Prowl never forgot about Soundwave, never failed to be grateful for the time and tolerance of Jazz.

"So, my bonded, do you still desire to be a triad?" Prowl trilled as he pressed close.

"Soundwave: wishes to explore the possibility," the host said, lifting a hand to run down Prowl's face. "If Prowl believes he and Jazz are ready."

"We talked about it, and Jazz is ready. Perhaps not to be courted yet, but to include you for some meals. He's ready to become friends, with the idea that it will become more in time," Prowl nuzzled him. "I've been ready for a long time. I want both my loves to be together, not to have spending time with one mean not spending time with the other."

"Soundwave: understands," the host said. "Perhaps ... I would not have chosen this path, but it is upon us and I wish to create a life with it. Has Jazz: shown any indication of if he would be open to receiving Soundwave alone?"

"I asked, and yes he is," Prowl nodded, content to snuggle against Soundwave while standing, simply drinking in his bonded's steady field to help level the giddiness in his own.

Soundwave nodded. "Soundwave and Jazz ... have a long, remembered history that was not always amiable. Soundwave: believes some time to discuss the past would be beneficial."

Prowl nodded, a flare of understanding across field and bond. "I believe it would be reasonable to say that almost all your mutual history is fully hostile." He welcomed the arms around him. "You have things in common now. Jazz wants the same for Cybertron and its inhabitants as we do, and you both want me happy."

"Agreed," Soundwave said, basking in the pleasure of his bonded to be with him and simply share in the contact of their fields. "And we both understand: disagreements were done professionally. This is new."

A low hum agreed and Prowl traced his finger along the edge of Soundwave's transparent chest panel with no effort to hide that he wanted to reconnect with his bonded's spark after so many merges with another.

Soundwave retracted his mask and smiled, drawing Prowl up into a kiss. "Soundwave: would like to ask Prowl's permission to arrange a meeting with Jazz," he said, while they walked to their berth.

"Granted, and I hope it goes well," Prowl said with significant certainty that it would.

"Thank you," Soundwave said, and pushed Prowl back onto their berth. "No more talking."

The lust that surged through Prowl's spark, field and frame went complete compliance that was eagerly given, their armor parting to grant their sparks physical access to each other.

* * *

"Sounders," Jazz said as he opened the door to his home, and gestured for him to come inside. "C'mon in. Gotta say, ah was surprised ya called." 

"Query: why?" Soundwave asked as he stepped inside and took in the two-story apartment that while smaller than his own, was larger in terms of per-mecha space.

"Guess ah figured it'd be both of ya," Jazz said, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head, watching Soundwave take in his space. 

"Jazz and Soundwave: have history Prowl does not know," Soundwave explained as his primary attention returned to Jazz. "Discussing that history without Prowl: best course of action."

"Ahh," Jazz said, nodding as he crossed past Soundwave to the window. "Y' share much 'a y' dark side with him?"

"Prowl: is aware of my full range of duties. Prowl: has never witnessed any." Soundwave responded. "Prowl: knew little of the evils of war. Soundwave: wished it to stay that way."

"Yeah," Jazz said. He glanced back at Soundwave. "Thanks for that. Ah felt the same. He hasn't felt this ... _happy_ ... since before Praxus. Even when we were together, there was just..." He shook his helm. "Watchin' me turn inta what ah did, it ... well, just, thanks."

"Soundwave: glad that Jazz does not wish Prowl to understand what war demanded we become." He shifted slightly and walked in easy teeking range. "Prowl: happy. Prowl: deserves to be happy."

"He does," Jazz said, regarding the host. "Hey, there ever been any cassettes in here? Ah always wondered."

"Affirmative. Ravage, Umbra and Laserbeak: check occasionally. Duty: to Cybertron and Prowl," Soundwave answered honestly.

"Figured," Jazz said, nodding. "Makin' sure ah wasn't plottin' anything against Prowl?" he asked, wondering a bit at the phrasing. 

"For Cybertron: ensuring Jazz was not plotting against the government again. For Prowl: to ensure he was enjoying his time. Umbra: simply wished to be close to Prowl," Soundwave elaborated. "Umbra: very loyal to Prowl."

"Ah noticed," Jazz said with a grin before it faded and he looked back out the window. "Dunno if 'sorry' is gonna cut it for everything that happened."

"Soundwave: cannot express regret honestly," the host admitted. "Actions: done for duty. Soundwave: Holds no ill will towards Jazz over duties performed. Soundwave: does not enjoy harming others."

"Y'hurt 'Raj more 'n a few times," Jazz said. "'Ah enjoyed hurting you. Not gonna ever be sorry for that." 

"Soundwave and Jazz: agree. Actions during war: require no apologies?" Soundwave asked, though he was genuinely disturbed to know that Jazz had enjoyed torturing him.

Jazz nodded. "We were kind a big, supremely dysfunctional and abusive family," he mused. "Y' torture me, ah torture you..." He hummed. "Ah can leave it in the past. Don't think it needs ta be said, but we don't get ta bring up anything we mighta learned durin' those times." 

Soundwave took several kliks to find and consider everything he'd learned about how to break and manipulate Jazz over the course of the war, as well as what Soundwave himself had given up. They were not things to be used in a consensual relationship. Soundwave had no desire to harm Jazz now, or make the mech doubt his worthiness. Similarly, Soundwave wasn't keen on being manipulated through his weaknesses either.

"Agreed. Behavior generated from that knowledge: undesirable now."

"So we're lettin' bygones be bygones," Jazz said with a nod. "Ah think ... it wouldn't be a bad idea to let Prowl know what those are, so he can look out for 'em." 

Soundwave kept the wince to himself at the thought of explaining why to his bonded. "Prowl: familiar with how to manipulate Soundwave. Jazz: would have to expose himself."

"Yeah. Relationships'll always have their rough spots, you and me, we know some more intimate buttons than most and let's face it, we're not gettin' inta this for each other. Or wouldn't have, once. We're bound ta want ta press those buttons at some point." Jazz shrugged. "He doesn't hafta know the gory details ta know that if ah snip at y' choices regardin' the cassettes, ah'm goin' where ah shouldn't."

"Similarly: if Soundwave brings up protecting Mirage or agents," Soundwave agreed. "Prowl will know we wish him to watch for such comments."

"Thanks, mech," Jazz said. "'Preciate it." 

"Soundwave: expects to appreciate it as well, in time," Soundwave accepted the thanks, knowing Jazz would recognize it. One was not so close to a pre-programmed mecha and not recognize the phrasing most had in common. Most kindled mecha would not. Soundwave knew Jazz would have taken the time and effort to learn to speak their dialect's quirks. "Jazz: has any specific events that he wishes to have addressed?"

Jazz frowned a bit, resting his helm on the glass. There were so many memories, of both of them, strapped down and sobbing through the pain and humiliation. They were both particularly good at twisting another mech around to forgetting why they were fighting, what the point of continuing to hurt was. He wondered why neither had just outright killed the other before they could be recovered by their faction. 

Professional courtesy?

He pushed the question to the top of his mind for the telepath. 

Soundwave had to contemplate that before answering. "Respect. Jazz: worthy of functioning. Mirage: worthy of functioning."

"Feelin's mutual," Jazz said, smiling inside to know that his best agent had earned the same respect he had. "No matter what happened."

"Query: what does Jazz have ill emotions towards Soundwave or cassettes over?"

"That time ah got 'Raj back, outta Kaon, and he was so broken he could barely..." Jazz shook his head. "Had ta wipe him after that, and he didn't recharge in the dark for an entire metacycle. He didn't know anything, there was no point in doin' that." 

"Mirage: Jazz's SIC. Intel knowledge at that rank always significant," Soundwave countered.

Jazz shook his helm. "What happened ta him was excessive. Ya wanted ta know what ah still have ill emotions over, well, it's any time ya hurt 'Raj, and that one in particular."

"Understood. Jazz: desires reparations?" Soundwave asked.

Jazz shook his helm. "Nah. Wouldn't do any good. He recovered, 's over, think most 'a the damage wasn't from ya anyway." He looked over at Soundwave. "How about ya? Any grudges?"

"Negative," the host responded. "Coding, culture, circumstance: all discourage holding a grudge."

Jazz nodded. "Figured. Glad we're on the same page, 'bout Prowl."

"Jazz and Soundwave: both want what is best for Prowl," Soundwave said almost softly. "Common ground: will be important." He paused and regarded Jazz. "Jazz: prepared to create a courting form with Soundwave?"

"Think so," Jazz said, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "Who'd've ever dreamed it, huh, Sounders?"

"Prowl," Soundwave almost chuckled as they moved to sit at the table and went to work on the form they both knew well.

* * *

"Prowl: is ready?" Soundwave asked with a note of anticipation in his voice as they waited for Jazz's arrival. 

"As ready as I am capable of being, after last time," Prowl murmured, though he was genuinely trying not to think about that moment, or at least how different things were now.

Jazz was with them willingly. At least more willingly than before.

Ravage pressed against Prowl's leg on one side while Umbra leaned in on the other. Their silent support meant a great deal to Prowl. Even if Ravage was still angry with the mech, she was willing to swallow her anger if it meant her family was happier.

Prowl smiled and patted the top of her head, then looked up at the chime at the door. 

Laserbeak immediately swooped in, flying over as it opened to allow Jazz inside, and perched himself on the racer frame's shoulder. 

Jazz reached up to rub under the avian's chin, flashing a grin at Prowl and Soundwave as he took in the entire family waiting for him. "Heya," he said, tilting his head.

"Come in," Prowl stepped forward to greet him with a nervous embrace and far sweeter kiss. "I'm glad you came," he said softly.

"'Course," Jazz murmured, touching their forehelms together and lingering there, fingers trailing up Prowl's arms to his shoulders. "Y' all right?"

"Yes," Prowl promised, relaxing a fraction at the contact. "Just nervous about tonight, that is all."

"Why?" Jazz asked with a grin before chasing down another kiss. "What's tonight?" 

"You're slipping if you don't know. Dinner first," Prowl insisted, getting a pout from Jazz. He drew away to lead Jazz further into his home.

"Jazz: welcome," Soundwave greeted him now that Prowl was done. "Business: doing well?"

"Boomin'," Jazz said. "Mecha like ta drink and dance, that will never change."

"Soundwave: pleased." Soundwave followed the pair, feeling slightly the outsider but not nearly as much as he had vorns earlier. "Saxo's: positive influence in Kaon."

"Thinkin' 'a expanding'," Jazz said brightly. "Since it's goin' so well. Got a few bigshots wanna invest, too, even lookin' at Polyhex as a location. It'd be a project, but it needs somethin' ta kickstart it."

"Who would manage the location?" Prowl purred, genuinely delighted by Jazz's success and plans.

"Sidestep," Jazz said. "It'll be pit ta replace him, but he's up ta it." He quickened his pace a bit to catch up with Prowl and slung an arm around one of the doorwings, running his fingers up the edge. "Unless y' gettin' tired 'a Kaon."

"Kaon is the capitol. I'm obligated to reside close to it," Prowl purred and shivered faintly at the touch. He was reluctant to dislodge Jazz when they reached the table, but he also wanted to get through the meal so they could settle what was coming.

"We could skip straight ta dessert," Jazz suggested with a purr, teeking Prowl's impatience.

A white hand came up to tip Jazz's face for a long, sensual kiss. 

"Are you sure?" Prowl asked with a deep rumble.

"Well, unless ya _really_ wanna sit at the table the whole time lookin' at me an' keepin' that secret 'a yours secret. And if ah hafta listen ta those twins giggling the entire time ah might kill 'em." 

Rumble and Frenzy were suddenly silent, before the giggling redoubled.

"In that case," Prowl chuckled before going dead serious. Umbra appeared at his side, a box Jazz recognized very well carefully held in his jaws. This time Prowl didn't kneel, but he did accept the box that was carefully placed in his backwards turned hand by the youngest symbiot. The fingers of the other hands slid across Jazz's chest to rest, spread across the central seam, and this time there was the faintest hint in Prowl's field that the consequences of a no wouldn't be so easy to get through.

Still, the bulk of Prowl's teek was of nervous excitement and hope.

Prowl lifted the box between them and locked onto Jazz's optics.

"Jazz, will you bond with me, legally and in spark?"

Jazz's vents hitched, but there was no hesitation before the fervently whispered, " _Yes._ "

The tension in the room collapsed inward like a dying star. Even Prowl's doorwings sagged in relief before lifting with joy as he pressed the hinged lid upwards to reveal an exquisitely crafted broach. Beyond the shine and glitter of craftsmanship and materials that were likely worth more than Jazz would earn in a lifetime of honest work, there was a four part linked glyph-insignia that took Jazz a moment to puzzle out.

The three designation glyphs were simple enough. Soundwave and Jazz were on the outside, slightly above Prowl's designation in the center and linked with fine filigree. Above Prowl's glyph was one that Jazz, despite all his linguistic knowledge, didn't know.

He touched it with a slight frown, then looked first at Prowl, and then at Soundwave. 

"The loose translation is: 'hub bonded,'" Soundwave said. He reached over and touched Prowl's designation glyph. "We: will be connected through him, and, over time, our own link can strengthen. If--when--such a time comes..." 

"You an' me can bond," Jazz murmured, and smiled at the host. 

"Affirmative," Soundwave said, nodding once.

"The timeline will be flexible," Prowl promised him. "We move only as fast as we are all comfortable with." 

"'Course," Jazz said, turning back to him and slipping one hand around his neck, the other going down to link their fingers together. He raised their arms together and guided Prowl into a slow dance that was smoothly followed with a growing warmth and pleasure replacing the nervousness in Prowl's field and frame. "How soon d'ya wanna do this? 'Cause mech, ah'm sayin' yes ta everything. Legal, physical, all 'a it." 

Before Prowl could answer, Frenzy jumped onto Jazz's pede and stood on it, holding his leg and looking up. Jazz looked down at him. 

"The Bosses'll never fess up to it so soon, but they wanna spark you up," the cassette said, eliciting shock from Prowl in a ripple of _Inappropriate_ towards the cassette.

" _Frenzy!_ " Soundwave said, vocalizer cracking with shocked static. 

Rumble's delighted cackle answered for both of them. 

Jazz grinned at the cassette on his leg. "Well don't tell the bosses yet, but ah might let 'em." He looked back to Prowl, who had gone completely still in delighted shock. "Question still stands."

"Sparks now, legal later," Prowl rumbled as he got himself under control.

"Good," Jazz purred, and drew him back into the dance. He reached over to Soundwave and brought him closer, guiding him to press against Jazz's back and join them. The host wasn't skilled at dancing, to be kind, but he tried. Using the cues that Jazz provided in mind and frame, he did manage to keep up to an extent.

Jazz kept the steps slow, basic, a very simple stepping and turning motion, nuzzling Prowl. "Think ya promised me dinner," he said. "And it sounds like ah'll need my energy up."

"As soon as the dance ends and you sit down," Prowl purred.

Jazz smiled and rested his head back against Soundwave's chest for a moment before breaking away. Everyone started towards the table, and Jazz sought out one particular shadow that lingered behind. He turned back and knelt a safe and respectful distance away, holding his hand out. 

Ravage eyed it. 

"Hey," Jazz said. "We gonna be okay?"

She growled, then huffed and glided forward to be petted.

"Take y' time," Jazz said, going right for her favorite spot on her neck. "Think we'll all need some. Just, don't claw me, aight?"

She pressed into the touch, even as she huffed a growl.

"That's fair," Jazz said with a grin. "Ah did miss _those_ scratches. Just a bit."

The felinoid rumbled into a chuckle and took a step forward to butt against him, pressing him towards the table.

"Ah'm goin', ah'm goin'," Jazz chuckled, as he joined the rest of the family.

Dinner and dessert were executed with relative patience and a mixture of small talk and practical questions, but less than a joor later found all three mecha and six cassettes in the berthroom, as Prowl pushed Jazz onto his back in the middle of the berth. Soundwave settled himself between them and the door, physically guarding the pair and silently expressing his approval of the new bond the best way he knew how.

Prowl's mouth claimed Jazz's, hungry and desperate in his effort to keep his spark in check long enough to warm up.

Jazz arched up, hand going around Prowl's neck and holding him in the kiss, mouth parting and head tilting as he pressed forward. His other hand found Prowl's chest, running up and down as close to the center seam as he could get. His own split open without hesitation at the sound of Prowl's armor unlocking. Ice blue and amethyst light spilled between them. Leaders didn't even wait for the armor to fully part before reaching out, wanting the connection far more than the mecha they powered.

~Love. Mine. Join me. Join us.~ Prowl's spark sang to Jazz's, eager to finish what they had begun so very long ago.

~Just try to stop me,~ Jazz's spark teased and sang back to its mate, and swirled into a tight spiral that went right for Prowl's center. He paused briefly to look at the bond with Soundwave, for the first time not blocked off, and could feel the six links to the cassettes that had gathered around the berthroom. He sent a careful leader out to touch, and felt their consciousnesses brush back. 

And then his focus was back to Prowl, and only on Prowl.

It felt amazing. Of course every merge felt amazing, but this one would never happen again. Prowl's spark opened up and welcomed him even deeper than ever before, intent on capturing and holding on to some of _Jazz_ in exchange for some of himself. It was easy and natural, the groundwork all laid out from centuries of intense merging and the long-held intent to reach this point in time. Jazz could see Prowl's vaguely surprised thought of how much smoother the process was with him than it had been with Soundwave, and he pressed into his love. 

~Was always there, the path,~ Jazz's spark whispered. ~We made it together long ago.~

~I'm glad,~ Prowl replied. His spark was sure of it. His processors less so, but nothing in them resisted the merge or the finalizing bond that was being woven. Nothing in Prowl resisted the _now_ , only how they got there. He loved Jazz. He had forever. Even the moments of extreme pain and perceived betrayal were sorted and had been processed. There was nothing between them but love now.

Jazz trilled joyfully and swirled around him in a final caress before the whiteout of overload knocked them both offline.

"Well, Boss?" Frenzy asked, looking at Soundwave. 

Soundwave reached into his spark, and through Prowl, felt Jazz. "Bond: has been successfully created," he said, with a small smile. 

Rumble and Frenzy whooped, the avians trilled, and the felinoids barked happily. Soundwave curled up behind Prowl and draped an arm over him, hand resting against Jazz. The cassettes all curled in around their host and his mates on the berth, with Ravage tucking herself behind Jazz's knees, purring deeply. 


End file.
